


The Measure of a Captain

by Lady_Sci_Fi



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 29,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Sci_Fi/pseuds/Lady_Sci_Fi
Summary: Captain Mike Yates is targeted for interrogation of Earth's defenses by a hostile alien force. How long can he last against Athel Cyprian's cruelty before he gives in, or before rescue comes?





	1. Chapter 1

 Sergeant John Benton knocked on the half-open door to Captain Mike Yates' office at the end of the day. It had been a good and calm day, with the Doctor and Jo off in the Tardis on some adventure, and no alien threat to fight. The best way to end such a day, in Benton’s opinion, was to have a pint at the pub with his lover, then go home and… well, have fun.

 “Come in,” invited Yates. “Ah, Sergeant, what can I do for you?”

 Benton left the door half-open as he crossed the room to the desk. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on it. “Care to join me for a pint, Captain?” He lowered the volume of his voice. “And go to my place after?”

 “That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” Mike replied with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be done with this paperwork soon. I’ll meet you there.” He took the opportunity to brush his fingers against the back of Benton’s hand.

 Benton grinned. “See you soon,” he said before leaving the office.

 Mike stared into the space that Benton had been occupying for another moment, a little smile still on his face. The stress of keeping their relationship secret while at work, and in public, was worth it. No one else ever made him feel like John made him feel. And John had said the same sentiment to him.

 Keeping themselves a secret from the world often involved leaving a few minutes after each other. Mike sighed and quickly finished filing the papers.

 By the time he went to the carpark of UNIT HQ, he noticed that Benton’s car was already gone. He wouldn’t leave Benton waiting long at the pub.

 The drive to the outskirts of London to their favorite pub wasn’t a long one, and at this time there wasn’t much traffic on the way. Hardly any at all, tonight.

 Mike was shocked out of his thoughts when he had to swerve to avoid a man who had seemingly appeared in the middle of the road. He stopped the car a few meters away and got out to see what the man was doing.

 “Hey, are you alright?” Mike called.

 The man turned. It was too dark to distinctly make out any of his features, except the eyes. They were yellow, and almost glowing. The man was tall, at least six foot four. He raised one hand. A four-fingered hand. Small claws glinted in the light of the streetlamps.

 Mike didn’t freeze in fear. He had been in situations like this before. “Do you come in peace?” he asked.

 At the lack of answer, Mike slowly backed up until he reached the open door of his car. Then he moved quickly, jumping in and starting the engine. He barely got the car moving before the engine abruptly died.

 “Damn it,” Mike swore. A look in the rearview mirror showed him that the alien was walking towards him. He turned the key in the ignition a couple more times, but to no avail. The engine would not start. He would have to make a run for it. He opened the door, and it was quickly shot off by a sort of red laser beam.

 Mike recoiled from the blast and crawled to the passenger side. He was halfway out when an explosion violently threw him from it. He landed hard on his shoulder.

 He coughed as he found the strength to turn himself over onto his back. All his energy was sapped from him, but he didn’t feel injured. He turned his head to the side and saw what remained of the car, only a few meters from him. The alien man came towards him. Mike tried to get up and run, or at least scurry away. The explosion had taken too much out of him.

 The alien crouched down next to him, and Mike could see his face. Blue, scaly, reptilian.

 “Yes, you’ll do nicely,” the alien whispered.

 Mike saw him raise a gun. “No-“ The last thing he saw was a blue flash.

 *******

 Benton was waiting for Mike at the pub, socializing with the bartender. A woman suddenly burst in, obviously flustered.

 “There’s been a car accident! A bit up the road!” she yelled.

 “Where, ma’am?” asked the bartender, going to the phone on the wall.

 “Not far up the road. I’ll show you.”

 Benton was the first out the door after the woman, a good number of the patrons following behind. He soon ran ahead of the woman, listening for her to give him directions from behind. He passed a couple of intersections before coming to same road he had used to get to the pub, not far from the edge of the city.

 A car was on its side, burnt and blackened, pieces of it strewn across the road. The area smelt of smoke. This hadn’t happened long ago.

 “Hello?” Benton called, hoping for an answer for any of the occupants. No answer.

 He looked in the wreckage for any sign of survivors. He hadn’t found anyone when the woman and the patrons caught up. He turned in a circle, looking for anything. There was nothing but car parts up and down the road, and in the grass on the sides.

 Then Benton spotted a piece of clothing in the grass, not far from the car. He hurried over to it, and he felt an emotional blow in his chest. It was a green beret hat with the UNIT insignia, singed and burnt in the back. “Mike?”

 Benton picked up the beret and searched the area. He found nothing, and no answer came from his desperate calls of Mike’s name. “Mike!” he called one last time. Without a word to the crowd, he ran back to the pub, hoping Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart would still be at HQ, working late like he usually did.

 “I sent police,” the bartender said as soon as he ran inside.

 Benton gave a quick nod as he picked up the phone and dialed. As soon as the other end answered, he said, “Brigadier, this is Sergeant Benton.”

 “What is it, Benton?”

 Benton stared at the beret in his hand, his thumb stroking against the fabric. “It’s about Captain Yates. He’s disappeared.”


	2. Chapter 2

 Benton had covered the entire area again, looking for Mike, by the time the Brigadier arrived. Mike’s beret had not left his hand since he had picked it up. They had been in these situations before, but they had always found each other, battered, but alright. Mike was missing. That wasn’t usually something that happened after a car accident. Which made this not an accident. Someone or something had blown up Mike’s car on purpose, and taken him from it, Benton was sure. The area around the wrecked car had a strange feeling, like there was electricity in the air.

 Benton turned to the UNIT truck when it skid to a stop next to the police cars. The Brigadier jumped out and asked, “What happened, Sergeant?”

 “Mike was supposed to meet me at the pub. He hadn’t arrived yet when someone came in to tell us about an accident. I came here and found the car.” Benton raised his hand with Mike’s beret. “And this, not far from it. There’s no other sign of him.”

 “You are absolutely certain?”

 “I am, sir.”

 The Brigadier went to talk to the police to turn over the scene to UNIT. Benton crouched in the grass where he had found Mike’s hat. He brought the beret up to his mouth. “I will find you, Mike,” he vowed.

 ********

 Mike became aware of regaining consciousness by a throbbing pain in his head. He made the mistake of quickly opening his eyes, and the sudden brightness spiked the pain in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and readied himself to look around.

 He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes halfway this time. He tried to raise a hand, but it didn’t move up. He looked down his body and saw thick metal cuffs restraining his wrists and ankles to a table. He had a moment of panic and struggled. It took a moment, but he managed to force his body to calm down and, with his eyes now adjusted, looked around the room.

 The room reminded him of a sterile hospital ward. Everything was a kind of off-white color, except for the pale-red cuffs restraining him to the table. With a grunt of frustration, Mike laid his head back on the table and closed his eyes.

 On the bright side, it didn’t seem as though the explosion had injured him. He felt fine, except for the throbbing headache. His shoulder also hurt a bit from where he had landed on it. But, other than that-

 The sound of a door sliding open pulled Mike from his thoughts. A tall and muscular blue-skinned reptilian man walked in. Mike didn’t know if it was the same one who had shot him before. Either way, he didn’t expect friendliness.

 “Ah, good. You are awake,” said the alien man. “I am Athel Cyprian. Captain of this ship.”

 “Ship? Where am I?”

 “You are on board the Cahayan interstellar ship Suresha.” Athel approached the table.

 Mike struggled in the restraints. “Don’t come near me,” he said through clenched teeth.

 Athel didn’t stop until he was at Yate’s side. “I’m sorry that our first meeting was… unpleasant.” He studied something behind Mike. “I’m no expert on Human physiology, but my medical instruments are telling me that you are uninjured.”

 The reptilian turned his gaze back down to Mike. “You know who I am. So it’s only fair that I know your name.”

 Mike was silent at the request. Athel sighed. “Come now, there’s no need to be rude. What’s your name? A little cooperation won’t hurt.”

 “Cooperation? You blew up my car and shot me. What do you want from me?”

 “Your name.”

 “Why am I here?” Mike insisted. He saw Athel’s now-blue eyes flash in the light.

 “You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you?” Athel placed a clawed hand on Mike’s forearm. The corners of his mouth twitched up as the man tried to pull away.

 “What is it you want from me?”

“Your cooperation. Starting with you telling me your name.”

 “Then what? If you wanted to be friends, you wouldn’t have blown up my car, shot me, and kidnapped me.”

 “You are going to tell me your name. What could I possibly do with knowing your name? I know that you’re a member of UNIT. That’s why you’re here.”

 The alien knew about UNIT. Mike had a nasty feeling about what Athel wanted his cooperation with. “I’m not going to help you with whatever you want.”

 Athel smiled, pointed teeth showing. “I do enjoy a good challenge.” He took a gun from its holster on his belt. “A weaker blast, this time. I don’t want you unconscious for as long as the previous time.” The same blue flash that had knocked Mike unconscious before did so again before Mike could shout a protest.

 *******

 The next time Mike awakened, he was once again lying on a table. He was tilted at a forty-five degree angle. His wrists and ankles were once again bound to the table by red cuffs. This room was a grey color.

 Mike turned his head and saw Athel sitting in a chair, staring at him. Another reptilian stood guard at the closed door.

 Athel stood and smiled. “Welcome to the Suresha’s interrogation room.” He went to stand in front of Mike. “You’ll be spending a lot of time here, if you don’t cooperate. Now, tell me your name.”

 At Mike’s stony silence, Athel went over to a built-in closet behind the table. “Come now, is your name really worth this resistance? What could I do with it?” He came back into Mike’s view, with a remote control in hand. “Last chance, soldier. Name and rank.”

 Mike stared at Athel and kept his silence. He saw Athel press a button on the control box in his hand. A split-second later, his body stiffened when he felt something wasn’t right with the table he was strapped to. Then the electricity coursing through the table hit him full-force.

 He bit his bottom lip and shook his head to keep from crying out, not wanting to give Athel any satisfaction.

 “Still resilient?” Athel commented. “I am going to have fun with you.”

 A tortured cry was ripped from Mike’s throat when the electric current intensified. His back arched off the table, his body doing everything it could to escape the torment. But the metal restraints held strong. The current increased in intensity again. His cries rapidly became screams.

 Through the fire in his nerves and body, and through the sound of his screaming, Mike heard a voice. Authoritative, demanding. “Name and rank, soldier!”

 The command kept repeating, and it was sounding downright reasonable. But still he resisted. Why was he resisting?

 The agony became too much to keep fighting the command. He screamed, “Mike Yates! Captain!” He repeated it until the electricity was turned off, which was thankfully only a few seconds after. He breathed heavily on the table, fingers twitching against cold metal, and toes twitching in his boots. The rest of his body had gone slack, the rapid rise and fall of his chest the only other movement.

 Athel leaned over Mike’s helpless form. “Captain Mike Yates. Captain… which puts you somewhere in the middle of the chain of command, correct? Good enough. I’m sure you know what I need to know.”

 “Go to hell.” Mike spat at Athel’s face.

 Athel wiped the saliva from his cheek with a smirk. “You’re mistaken, Captain Mike Yates. If I understand the meaning correctly, you are already there.” The Cahayan man undid the metal cuffs around Mike’s wrists and ankles.

 Mike’s attempt to get down from the table ended with him gripping the edge tightly as his legs collapsed as soon as he reached the floor. He heard Athel laugh.

 “You won’t be able to walk on your own for about an hour.”

 Mike swatted at the clawed hand that reached down to grab his arm. He cried out in surprise when Athel seized the back of his uniform jacket and lifted him off the floor. The alien pitched him toward the guard. “Take him to his cell.”

 Mike didn’t have much strength to put up more than a token struggle as the guard half-dragged him through a corridor to a short dead-end hallway lined with small rooms. He was unceremoniously thrown into one, and he barely brought his hands up in time to protect his face from hitting the floor. A blue force-field came up to lock him inside.

 The room was sparse, the only furniture a metal shelf sticking out from the wall, up a couple feet from the ground. It was large enough for him to lie on it. Mike struggled to climb on the shelf. His legs still refused to support most of his weight.

 Mike sat with his knees brought up to his chin. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. He whispered, “I’m sorry, John.”


	3. Chapter 3

 “Sergeant, you should go home and get some rest,” said the voice of the Brigadier. “You look exhausted.”

 Benton raised his head from his arms on the mess hall table and looked up. “Is that an order, sir?”

 “No, I suppose not. A suggestion.”

 “If it’s the same to you, I’d rather stay here in case we find a lead. I don’t want to waste time if we do.”

 “Alright. Then get to a bunk. I don’t need you falling asleep on your feet.”

 Benton got up from the table. “Right, sir.” He moved past the Brigadier to the doorway. He turned and asked, “Are you also staying, sir?”

 “Yes, Sergeant, I am. I’m also quite anxious about Captain Yates.”

 “Right. Goodnight, Brigadier.”

 “Goodnight, Sergeant.”

 *******

 Mike had managed to sleep a few hours. He awakened when the force-field to his cell was deactivated and the guard walked in yelling at him to get up. Mike didn’t get up fast enough for the alien’s liking and a strong grip on his arm yanked off the makeshift bed.

 “I’m awake. No need to be rude.”

 “Walk,” the guard ordered.

 The alien kept Mike in front of him on the way to the interrogation room. The UNIT officer knew that this would be his only real chance to escape. He stopped walking, then bent over and pretended something was wrong with his leg.

 “Keep moving.”

 “My leg’s cramped. Give me a minute.” Mike felt the oncoming shove before it hit him and ducked under the hand. He ran back the way they had come, hoping to lose the guard and not bump into any of the other Cahayans.

 What Mike hadn’t counted on was the speed of the guard. It wasn’t long before the guard tackled him into a wall from behind. Once on the floor, Mike turned himself over onto his back and kicked the guard off.

 He scrambled to his feet and got a step further before one ankle was seized in a vice-like grip. He fell flat onto his front and the air rushed from his lungs at the impact. The guard lifted him from the floor by his ankle, then forced his leg down again. This time his knee struck the hard floor first.

 Mike cried out at the pain and cradled the injured joint close when the guard let go of his ankle. The guard pinned Mike’s arm beneath a heavy boot and sneered down at him.

 “Are you going to try that again?”

 Mike truthfully shook his head. Even if he managed to get another opening to run, he definitely wasn’t going to make it far with the pain blossoming in his knee. He bit back the nauseous sensation.

 The guard took his foot off Mike’s arm and ordered him to get up.

 Mike did stand up, putting more weight on his uninjured leg. This time, the guard didn’t take a chance with his prisoner running away. He grabbed a very tight hold on Mike’s bicep and pulled him along to the interrogation room.

 So much for an escape. Mike knew that after this, he would be too closely guarded and possibly weakened to make another attempt. 

 Once in the grey-colored room, Mike saw that Athel was waiting for him, with a second guard standing next to him.

 “He tried to escape, Captain,” said the guard who had brought the UNIT officer in.

 Athel half-smiled. “Did he, now? I was expecting him to. I would’ve been disappointed if he hadn’t.” The Cahayan leader turned to Mike. “Captain Yates, if you had managed to elude my men, you would’ve had nowhere to actually escape to. If you remember, we are on my ship, which is currently hovering high above Earth’s surface.” He let out a mock sigh. “I do hope Esfan didn’t hurt you too badly.”

 Athel circled around Mike, who was still being held still by the guard Esfan. “Are you going to cooperate, Yates?”

 “Take a guess.”

 Athel smiled, his sharp teeth showing. His purple tongue ran over the two longer fangs. “Very well. Take his clothes.”

 Mike struggled against the two guards, but it still didn’t take them long to rip his jacket, shirt, and boots off him.

 “That’s enough,” Athel said. “Chain him up.”

 Mike still fought as the two guards yanked him over the hanging red-coloured chains that ended in two manacles.

 “You’re not getting out of those, Yates,” Athel stated.

 The chains didn’t have much slack. Mike’s hands could only go down to the level of his eyes. He stopped struggling against the metal, knowing it would only tire him.

 Athel studied Mike’s body, looking it up and down as he circled the restrained man. “You’re not the most… physically imposing of your people, are you.” He laid his hand on Mike’s bare chest, keeping it there even when Mike tried to push it away. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you… yet.”

 Mike’s body only tensed further as Athel’s hand went down his torso and came to a stop at his stomach.

 “I’m going to have to be careful with you. I don’t want to accidently kill you. Though I’m certain you’re stronger than you look.”

 “You are not going to get what you want from me.”

 Athel raised a hand to pet Mike’s hair. “You’re mistaken.” He smiled and went behind Mike to the closet. “I want you to tell me about the specifics of your UNIT base and any other such military bases you know about. Defenses, how many men are there, weapons, your superiors… that kind of information. And I want you to tell me about your scientific advisor. Who is he? What is he? Rumours from others say he’s not one of you humans.”

 “I can’t tell you any of that.” Mike gasped and his entire body stiffened at the unexpected line of pain across his back. When Athel came back around, Mike saw that he had a whip in his hands. He could feel a welt forming from where the weapon had struck him.

 “You know what I want, and you surely understand the consequences. Answer my questions.”

 Mike yelped when the whip snapped across his chest. He rose up onto his toes to ride out the pain. “You’ll have to do better than that, Athel,” he said through gritted teeth.

 Mike found out that Athel was very experienced in the field of interrogation. It took two more strikes across his back to get him to scream. And the pained cries did not stop. Athel didn’t give him a chance to get used to each strike.

 He felt trails of warm blood run down his back. He shook in the chains. His legs had gone weak and were barely holding him up.

 “Stop! Please!” Mike managed to say through his anguished cries. “Make it stop!” His body tensed for another strike, which didn’t come. Mike weakly raised his head when the Cahayan moved to his front to face him.

 Athel lifted Mike’s chin with the handle of the blood-stained whip. “Make it stop? I can do that. If you tell me what I want to know.”

 “I can’t.” Mike clenched his teeth and glared.

 Athel snapped the whip at Mike’s thigh. It cut through his trousers and into the skin. He did it twice more before Mike’s leg gave out.

 The UNIT officer was left hanging from the chains, his leg in too much pain to support him. “I-I won’t… tell-“ A vicious backhand snapped his head to the side.

 “Then, this doesn’t stop. But, for right now…”

 Mike cried out in surprise when the shackles around his wrists suddenly opened and let him drop to the floor. He yelped and arched his back as Athel kicked the fresh wounds there.

 “For now, Yates, I’ll let you rest.”


	4. Chapter 4

 “Captain Mike Yates!”

 Athel chuckled at the words that came from the chained man’s mouth. “Very good, but I’ve already asked that question, and you’ve already answered it.”

 All Mike could do in response was breathe heavily as he half-limply hung in the chains. He gritted his teeth as he raised his head at the long pause in pain. “C-captain Mike Yates…” he repeated in a hoarse whisper. His back hurt from the whipping, though at least it had been cleaned and patched up a bit. That rest on the floor had only lasted maybe an hour before he had been put back in the chains.

 “Oh, I see.” Athel slowly moved around to his prisoner’s front.

 Mike didn’t look down to the floor, instead gritting his teeth as he tried to stare up to his captor.

 “Repeat your name all you want,” Athel said flippantly. “You’ll tell me the answers I want eventually.”

 “Captain. Mike. Ya-“ He broke off into a long cry as the circular device was pressed to his chest, which gave off an intense heat against his bare skin. He tried to get away from it, going on his tiptoes and leaning, to no avail. His jaw clenched shut as it was removed a long moment later. He looked down to where it had been, and saw no mark on his skin. He was relieved that it meant there would be no physical burns on his back, where the previous efforts had been focused. That didn’t stop the residual burning sensation, though.

 Mike screamed as the device came upon his cheek next. He tried to twist in the hanging chains to escape it, but Athel matched his movements, then grabbed the back of his head to stop it from moving away.

 “Name of your commanding officer!”

 Another scream came from Mike’s throat as the burning device slid over to the side of his nose. “No!” He took a staggering breath to try to get through the pain as it moved to under his eye. “Mike Y-Yates! C-Captain Mike…” The intense heat was taken away, and he slumped forward in the chains. His hands clenched and unclenched above him.

 Athel let go of Mike’s head and took a step back. He hummed in thought, giving the other man time to breathe. “Oh… have we not fed you yet?”

 Mike’s brow furrowed as he raised his head. Now that it was mentioned, he did feel hungry.

 “I’ll have food brought to you when this session is over. We can’t have you starving and…”

 Mike half-tuned the alien out, thinking quickly, or as quickly as his pain-addled brain would allow. As much as food did sound like a good idea to his empty stomach, if he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t last as long in these sessions. But, that also meant he might be weak enough to actually answer questions.

 “I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t allow you to starve yourself. If necessary, you will be forcefully fed. You won’t simply waste away under my care.”

 Mike grunted in pain and his shoulders wrenched as his already hurt knee was kicked out from under him. “Oh, good. Such a…” Mike let out a hissed breath as he gathered his feet under him. “Gracious host.”

 “I could be even more so, if you cooperated.”

 Mike shook his head and stood up as straight as he could manage. “Somehow, I doubt it would be worth it.”

 Athel simply smiled. “I hoped you would say something to that effect.” He pounced forward and grabbed the back of Mike’s head to yank it back and expose the neck.

 Mike’s eyes flew wide as the burning device came down against his throat. He kicked and tried to wriggle away, but Athel’s grip was too strong. He shuddered as through the agony, the other voice said close to his ear, “Much more fun for me this way.”

 ********

 Mike curled up on what served as the bed in his cell, willing his body to move through the pain as quickly as possible. He had to be ready for whenever the next session was.

 True to Athel’s word, not long after he had been returned to his cell, a guard lowered the force-field, placed a plate of food and drink on the floor, and reactivated the force-field. “You will eat,” the guard said in a warning tone.

 As much as Mike might have wanted to try starving himself, he really didn’t like the sound of being force-fed. With a grunt of effort, he swung his legs over to retrieve the plate and cup. It looked like bread, a few strips of meat, and water. He sat on the bed, and placed the plate on his lap.

 He considered the meal for a moment, then began eating. It wasn’t the most appetizing, but what was he to expect, being a prisoner.

 Now that he was away from Athel, he could risk thinking about Benton and the Brigadier. Did Athel leave any clues for them to start to figure out what had happened to him? Even if he had, Mike was on a spaceship, and UNIT had no really way to find out exactly where it was and mount a rescue. At least, not without the Doctor’s help. And without him there and knowing how long until he returned… How long would rescue take?

 How long could he last before he began to answer questions other than his name and rank?

 However long he needed to, was the only possible answer he could give himself.

 When he finished the food, he set it back on the floor by the force-field and laid back down on the bed. He stopped thinking about what could be going on down on Earth. He knew he couldn’t afford to think about it for long, because it would make it easier for Athel to get that information from him. Continuing to think about it could also lower his morale, and he needed all of that as he could possibly have to keep going.

 Even though that device hadn’t actually left any physical burns, the spots where it had been used still felt hot and stinging. He gently rubbed at his cheek and nose in an attempt to soothe them.

 Then, with nothing left to do, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. He didn’t doubt he would need all his strength for the next time.

 ********

 Benton entered the Brigadier’s office, and couldn’t help the tiny smile at the man asleep at his desk, wondering how long he had been in that position for. His own attempt at sleep hadn’t been for very long, his mind too anxious for Mike’s well-being to let him.

 He didn’t want to wake the Brigadier, so he simply sat quietly sat in the vacant chair. He didn’t know what else to do at the moment. He had already checked in with the investigation into Mike’s disappearance, which had no new information or theories.

 Benton rubbed at his cheek, frustrated in his inaction. He couldn’t do anything. He was practically helpless right now in the situation. He hated it, especially when the fate of the man he loved was at stake.

 He covered his mouth with his hand, and whispered into the palm, “Hold on, Mike.”


	5. Chapter 5

 Mike couldn’t resist the attempt at another escape the next time he was taken out of his cell. He was hurting and tired, but that hadn’t stopped him doing what he needed to before, and he wasn’t going to let it stop him now. Even if he couldn’t get off the ship via escape pod or however Athel had teleported to Earth, maybe he could still find a way to send a message to UNIT.

 He was caught by the guard Esfan even more quickly than before, and the large alien practically threw him against the wall this time. Mike was too dazed to do much else than be half-carried by him to the interrogation room. Still, at least he had tried.

 Athel was waiting for him, and he tilted his head as Mike was brought in with his arms firmly held behind his back. “You tried to escape again, Yates?”

 Mike set his jaw and nodded.

 “Good. I wasn’t expecting any less of you.” Athel stepped forward until he and his prisoner were less than a foot apart, and he looked down at him. “I have ideas for you.”

 Mike couldn’t suppress the shudder, but still held the other man’s gaze. He tried not to flinch as Athel pulled a sharp dagger from his belt and raised it between them.

 Athel looked at the weapon, almost in a bored sort of way. “Tell me, is Mike your personal name?”

 Mike saw no point in getting hurt over this, not when the alien already knew his name. “Yes,” he answered.

 “Mike,” Athel echoed. He nodded, “I think I’ll come to know you well enough to start using that now.” He took a half-step forward, and raised the dagger to Mike’s eye-level. “Stay still,” he warned.

 Mike didn’t know what Athel intended, and bit back the instinct to move away. He anxiously breathed quickly as the blade slowly came closer to his left eye. He raised his foot, ready to attempt to dodge, but he still managed to stand his ground. He didn’t want to risk getting stabbed in the face if he moved wrong.

 He closed his eyes as the flat part of the blade came to rest over the left one. His body shook with the effort to stay still, and he swallowed heavily.

 “So you can follow orders.”

 Mike opened his right eye to glare at Athel. Athel was grinning, and he said, “Don’t worry, Mike, I’m not going to take that.”

 Mike relaxed enough to stop his body’s shaking as the blade withdrew, though he still waited until the dagger was put away before he opened his left eye.

 Athel took a step back and turned away. “Now, I still have questions that you refuse to answer.”

 “Why do you want Earth?” Mike asked.

 Athel turned partway with a raised brow. “I am the one who asks questions here.” He turned away again. “You are defiant and resilient. But that-“ He suddenly spun, and Mike ended up on the floor as Esfan let go the instant the savage backhand struck the prisoner’s cheek. “That, Mike, will only last so long.”

 Mike rubbed at his stinging cheek as he pushed himself up. He only got to his knees before Athel kicked him squarely in his side. He bent over, trying to regain the air that had just been forced from him. Athel allowed him to do so, and when he had gotten enough back, he looked to the door. Esfan and the other customary guard were now standing just in front of it, giving Athel all the space possible in the already large room.

 Athel grabbed the waist of Mike’s trousers and lifted him to his feet. Mike protested, hating how easily the aliens could pick him up and toss him around.

 “No!“ he shouted as Athel yanked him over to the dangling chains. He kicked out, ignoring the flare of pain in his knee, as Athel grabbed his wrists and pulled them up to lock them into the pale red manacles. He gritted his teeth as they snapped firmly around his wrists.

 A moment later, Athel came around Mike’s front, and said, “There’s something about interrogating soldiers…” He cupped his hand under Mike’s chin. “They have a sense of purpose larger than themselves to fight for. It makes them so very stubborn to answer even the most inconsequential of questions.” He smiled predatorily and leaned in close. “Which makes the moment they break so much sweeter.”

 “I won’t,” Mike nearly spat.

 Athel’s hand moved up to the side of his prisoner’s head, where he petted the hair. “They all say that, soldiers and others alike.” His hand went still, and he pressed the tips of his short claws into the scalp, not enough to break the skin, but just enough to be uncomfortable.

 Mike held the alien’s gaze, until Athel snorted lightly and let go of his head. Then he lowered his head and breathed deeply, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever was to come next.

 “You know the questions, don’t you?” Athel inquired, sounding almost perfectly polite. “I think I’ll start by asking the name of your commanding officer. That should be a simple one, yes?”

Mike was silent. His entire body stiffened at the feeling of the tip of something sharp press against a welt from the whipping.

 “Commanding officer,” Athel requested again.

 The threat was clear, and Mike clenched his teeth in preparation. It was a losing battle to keep his mouth closed when the already raw skin was punctured and the sharp object began to drag across it. His eyes widened at the pain. A long cry soon came from his throat as the pain built, his skin tearing along the welt.

 “Stop! Stop!” Mike begged on a staggered inhale. But it didn’t stop, not until it had reached the end of the horizontal welt that stretched across his back. His hands unclenched above his head as he dropped his head. He sucked in breaths through his teeth, trying to will the hot stabbing pain away. Warm blood flowed down his back.

 Athel came around to Mike’s front, and lifted his head with a hand under his chin. He raised his hand, and now Mike saw what had been tearing at his flesh. The short claw on Athel’s index finger dripped crimson. “There are more choice spots I can continue with,” the Cahayan said. “Commanding officer.”

 Mike shook his head.

 “Very well.” Athel returned to standing behind his captive.

 Mike clenched his fists again in anticipation. His eyes squeezed shut as that claw found another line to follow across his back. Another cry, even louder than the last, escaped from his throat, and he arched his back to try to get away from the cutting pain.

 In the middle of the third one, Mike tried to think about something, anything else than the agony. The first thing that came to him was Benton. His arms securely and warmly around him, holding him, kissing his temple…

 Mike latched onto that. And for a short moment, the fire in his back lessened. “… John…”

 “John?”

 Mike came crashing back to the present, and cried out as the pain returned in full force. Had he really just said that out loud? No, he couldn’t have. He couldn’t have…

 “John?” Athel said again, coming around to face Mike.

 Mike’s throat seized. He had said his name out loud. He couldn’t look Athel in the face this time, even though the other’s hand pushed his head back to do so.

 “That’s not the answer, though, is it?” He didn’t wait for Mike to respond. “You said it too reverently to be your commanding officer’s name. No, you see, Mike… the first name given is usually that of a dear one, most often a love partner.”

 Mike tried to keep his expression neutral, but he knew he failed when Athel stated, “I don’t need to ask it. I can see it.”  

 Athel raised his bloody finger and slowly painted down Mike’s cheek. “This John of yours… would be worth looking into.”

 Mike couldn’t help the cry of, “No! Don’t!”

 Athel painted another red stripe down Mike’s face. “Oh, now I know John is worth looking into.”

 Mike made a wordless hissing sound. Then he realized, “Good luck with finding him. John is a very common name.”

 Athel hummed. “And I suppose you won’t tell me anything more about him?”

 Mike spit onto the man’s face. Athel barely responded, not even bothering to wipe the saliva off his nose and cheek. “Perhaps you’ll tell me more some other time. For now…” He withdrew his finger from Mike’s face. “How widespread are UNIT’s resources? What global reach do you have?”

 Mike stayed quiet, the only sounds the tiny moans that got through his lips from the residual pain of his back.

 Athel petted the chained man’s hair, and whispered with a smile, “I do like you.”

 Mike shook his head when the man’s hand left his hair, and squeezed his eyes closed.

 They flew open and he threw his head back with a scream as that burning device pressed on one of the open wounds of his back.

 “Captain Mike Yates! C-Captain Mike… Y-Yates!” he shrieked over and over through his screams and sobs. “Captain… M-Mike… Yates! C-Captain…”


	6. Chapter 6

 “I wish we had some way of contacting the Doctor,” Alistair said, resisting the urge to slam his fist onto his desk. “It’s… it’s irresponsible that he doesn’t have an emergency line for us in that infernal Tardis of his whenever he goes gallivanting off like this.”

 “Yes, sir,” Benton quietly agreed.

 “Sergeant, I don’t know what else to do,” Alistair admitted. “We can’t trace Captain Yates’ movements, and if some alien technology was involved in his kidnapping…” He refused to entertain the other possibility right now, not when they had no evidence for that, either. “Without the Doctor…”

 “I know, sir.” Benton looked down, staring at the wood grains of the desk. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but you’re right.”

 “We’re not giving up, Benton,” Alistair said to reassure himself and the sergeant. “We’ll exhaust every idea we can come up with until the Doctor returns.”

 Benton looked up to the Brigadier and nodded.

 ********

 “Are you considered… attractive among your species?”

 Mike’s brow furrowed, and he opened his eyes to look up in confusion at the completely unexpected question. He was strapped down on the table that had been used to get him to confess his own name. He squirmed at the discomfort lying flat on his back caused, although it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. The raw and torn flesh had been seen to and fixed up by a doctor a lot more quickly than natural healing.

 “Well, are you?” Athel prompted. He laid a hand on Mike’s shoulder, and didn’t respond to the prisoner’s flinch.

 It really wasn’t a question worth getting tortured over. “It’s been said by others.” Still, he had no idea where this could go, and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

 Athel nodded, trailing his hand down Mike’s chest. It stopped over a stripe of raw skin from the whip. “I do think you are… aesthetically pleasing.” He slid his hand up to caress Mike’s cheek, the same one he had subjected to the burning device.

 Mike’s hands at his side clenched tightly as Athel’s thumb ghosted over his bottom lip. He couldn’t suppress the shudder when Athel’s other hand trailed down his side and stopped just above the waist of his trousers. He didn’t know what to think. “I-I fail to see how that’s… how that’s relevant to what you want.”

 Athel shrugged and removed the hand on Mike’s abdomen. The one on the face went up to softly stroke through his captive’s hair.

 A moment later, Mike yelped at the hard grip in his hair, also feeling a claw scratch his scalp in the process. Athel pulled his head up from the surface of the table and leaned in extremely close, where Mike could see the tiny specks of purple in the cool blue eyes.

 “You have a variety of questions you can answer. Which would you like to start with?”

 “None,” Mike refused.

 “Now, Mike, you know that is not an option.” Athel let go of the hair and stepped back.

 Mike clenched his teeth at the building of electricity under him. “Please, d-don’t… don’t-“

 “How about UNIT’s resources and reach?”

 Mike shook his head, both in answer and to move through the building pain at the back of it.

 “UNIT’s resources and reach, Captain!” Athel demanded.

 “Can’t… give that to you.”

 “You can, and you will.”

 The electricity drastically increased in power, and Mike soon began to scream. He managed to hold in all other words except for his own name. He clung onto that, like a mantra that would somehow get him through all of this and what more was to come.

 Tears burst from his eyes and his scream cut off into a choked sob as another thing was added to the torment. The burning device pressed hard over his heart.

 “Stop! Please! I-I can’t-“

 “You know how this stops, Mike,” Athel reminded over in the breaks of screaming.

 The burning moved to the side of his neck, and he couldn’t scream any more.

 ********

 A strong and gentle hand stroked through his hair. “John…?”

 “You truly are resilient.”

 Mike’s nerves shot into full awareness, and he pushed himself up halfway. His eyes darted around, recognizing his cell. Athel was sitting on the floor beside the bed, simply watching him. He hoped he hadn't said anything in his sleep. 

 “Were you…?” Now that he was awake, that hand had been pressing too hard and was slightly too large to have been Benton’s. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed. Then he blinked several times. The last thing he remembered was the electricity and burning. “What…” A wave of nausea rose in his stomach. “What happened?”

 “You lost consciousness. Inevitable, really.”

 “And- and what? You wanted to play doctor with me?”

 “You were seen to, and rest was advised.”

 Mike considered his options, with the Cahayan sitting only a few feet away. He wanted to attack him, hit him, something. But he knew the guard would be right outside, not to mention how much stronger Athel himself was than him, even if he hadn’t been in a lot of pain.

 Athel smiled. “I see your mind working. Is it worth attempting an attack on me or not?”

 Mike silently cursed the man, then shook his head.

 “Intelligent,” Athel remarked. Then he stood, lifted a plate of food and cup of water from the floor, and placed it where Mike’s head had been on the bed. “Eat,” he said simply before he left.

 Mike stared at the food for several minutes before he did so.

 ********

 As soon as Mike was brought into the interrogation room, he noticed the large basin on the floor, and immediately began running through how it was going to be used to hurt him.

 The guard kicked him behind his injured knee, forcing him down to them. A second after, a leather strap looped around his neck from behind, and Athel’s voice in his ear demanded, “Commanding officer!”

 “Captain Mike-“ Mike choked as the strap harshly tightened. He tried to swallow and not panic.

 He was deprived of air for only a few seconds before the strap loosened and let him breathe.

 “Commanding officer.”

 “Captain-“ Mike choked again, this time his hands clenched with the effort to try to breathe through it. Again, it only lasted a few seconds.

 “This continues until you answer.”

 Mike shook his head, and tried to head-butt the man behind him. He served a glancing blow, and the response came very quickly, the strap tightening more than before. This time one of his hands went up to grab at the strap in an attempt to pull it away. All he could do was claw at it, and the panic began to rise when it wasn’t loosened as quickly as before. 

 The strap loosened just enough for air to get past, and he breathed as deeply as he could. Athel leaned all his weight forward on Mike’s upper back, forcing the prisoner down further. Then he pulled the strap taut again.

 Mike leaned forward in an attempt to break free, his hand still clawing at the leather around his neck. He was given another reprieve, but then Athel’s hand shoved his head down into the basin.

 The water was shockingly cold, and he inhaled it through his nose and mouth. His hands on the outside of the basin gripped the edge of it and flailed to find some other purchase to gain any leverage.

 His head was pulled out, and he sputtered out water and gulped in breaths. He only got three in before the strap around his neck tightened. He only had a second to understand that before he was forced underwater again.

 Mike was powerless, despite his frantic thrashing and clawing, to get his nose and mouth above the water or loosen the strap. Black spots swam across his vision.

 Athel pulled Mike back up, but didn’t loosen the strap. “UNIT resources!”

 Mike couldn’t even shake his head, and was quickly shoved back down.

 He was being strangled and drowning. He couldn’t breathe, water filled his mouth and nose. His vision greyed at the edges, and that grey invaded inwards and darkened. His struggling limbs slowed.

 Athel pulled Mike up out of the basin and loosened the strap at the same time. It took Mike a few seconds to regain his strength enough to breathe deeply. He blinked slowly, and somehow still had the presence of mind to wrap his fingers around the strap at his throat.

 Athel saw it, and let go of the strap completely. Mike looked down at it in his hand in confusion. He cried out as Athel pounced fully onto him and forced his head down again. He kept his mouth closed, but his panic forced him to inhale through his nose. He began thrashing again, but the effort was weaker than before.

 His eyes closed and his limbs slowed, exhausted, losing the battle to regain oxygen in his lungs…

 It took him several seconds to realize when he’d been pulled out of the water again. Water came up from his mouth, weakly coughed out to make space for the precious air he needed.

 Athel moved away, and Mike could do was lay on his back, desperately coughing and breathing.


	7. Chapter 7

 Benton heard a certain sound as he walked the corridors of UNIT HQ to the Brigadier’s office. He peeked into the Doctor’s lab, and saw the Tardis mid-materialization. He hurried to the office and barely managed to knock on the half-open door before he entered.

 “Yes, Sergeant?”

 “Sir, the Doctor and Miss Grant are back.”

 Alistair shot up out of his chair, and they hurried to the lab. They made it inside just as the Doctor and Jo were exiting the Tardis. “Finally,” Alistair sighed at the sight of the blue box.

 “Absolutely wonderful, and-“ Jo said to the Timelord, then noticed the two who had come in. “Oh, Sergeant, we’ve just had the most wonderful time. Beautiful place, and a bit of adventure.” She looked up to the Doctor. “What was the place called again?”

 But the Doctor had picked up on the concerned demeanor of the two soldiers and ignored Jo’s question. “What’s wrong?”

 “Captain Yates is missing,” Alistair answered. “For the past four days.”

Jo gasped, “Oh no.”

“What? How?” the Doctor asked.

 “Come to my office, and we’ll fill you in.”

 ********

 Mike was shoved towards Athel in the interrogation room. He stumbled, but managed to stay upright in the middle of the space.

 “Tell me about your scientific advisor.”

 “No,” Mike simply refused. He shuddered as the alien stepped in close and began to slowly circle around him. He could feel his eyes roving over him, no doubt thinking what terrible thing to subject him to next. He was glad the water basin wasn’t here this time. That had been the most terrifying. One of his hands unconsciously felt the bruising around his throat from the strap.

 “Tell me about him,” Athel requested again as he completed a second round. “His name, where he comes from, his skills.”

 Mike shook his head. He refused to give another name after he had let Benton’s first name slip. His hands clenched at his sides as Athel’s came down on his shoulder and let it slide halfway down his arm. He held the Cahayan’s gaze, and saw the quick baring of teeth just before Athel grabbed his left wrist and yanked him forward.

 He stumbled, and Athel took steps backwards towards a counter, yanking him along in short sudden movements. Once they had reached it, Athel grabbed Mike’s hair and slammed his forehead down to the hard surface, dazing the prisoner.

 Mike slumped down, seeing stars for an instant. A guard wrapped a strong arm around his middle from behind. The item on the counter had escaped Mike’s notice, until Athel picked it up with the hand not holding Mike’s wrist. His eyes widened in fear, and he felt sick at the sight of it. Athel did a few short swings with the small but heavy sledgehammer-like tool.

 “Scientific advisor.”

 Mike couldn’t even shake his head or verbally tell the man no. His body had frozen when he made the connection between his hand being held down on the counter and the hammer.

 “Look at me, Mike.”

 Mike’s eyes darted up from the hammer as much as his bent position allowed to meet Athel’s gaze.

 “Scientific advisor.”

 “I-I can’t.” Mike heavily swallowed, fighting to keep his gaze on Athel.

 “You can,” Athel encouraged. He brought the hammer close to Mike’s face so he could get a clear look at it.

 Mike tried to fight back, get out of the guard’s hold, and wrench his hand from Athel’s grip. They were simply too strong for him to do any meaningful resistance. “Don’t… d-don’t…” His hand on the counter fisted tightly.

 “No, no, don’t do that.” Athel put down the hammer to place his hand over Mike’s. “Flatten it.”

 Mike could only stare at their hands as his refused to comply.

 “You’ll want it flat.” Athel’s fingers stroked between Mike’s to ease them open. “There…” he breathed as they began to do so.

 Mike had to fight the instinct to keep his hand closed, even though he knew the potential impact would be more damaging if he didn’t obey. His entire body had tensed, and to try to relax one part of it, the one part that was to be directly injured…

 “There…” Athel repeated when his fingers stroked again through Mike’s now flat hand. He kept his hand over it, and looked to Mike’s face. “Tell me about your scientific advisor.”

 “I c-can’t.”

 Athel raised his hand, and warned, “Keep it like that,” before he picked up the hammer.

 Mike couldn’t look away from his hand. It trembled from the effort of keeping it down flat against the table. He squeezed his eyes shut as Athel raised the weapon, and a second later, it came down.

 Mike hoarsely screamed at the breaking bones in the back of his hand. His knees buckled from the intense pain that shot through his nerves. He slid down, but Athel’s grip on his wrist wouldn’t let him fall completely. 

 The hammer came down again.

 “Doctor!” It was a cry for help, for his friend to somehow hear him and come for him. What he wouldn’t give to see the colourful velvet, frills, and grey hair walk through that door, flanked by the Brigadier and Sergeant Benton…

 The hammer came down a third time, and the name came through again in another scream.

 The guard let go of Mike’s waist, and Athel let go of Mike’s wrist, letting the man fall backwards to the floor, sobbing and wailing.

 Mike curled up on his side and cradled his broken hand to his chest protectively. Tears leaked from his still-closed eyes. He dry-heaved from the intense queasiness in his stomach.

 His breathing settled into short stuttered inhales and long heavy exhales through clenched teeth.  The pain was so intense, and his breaths were interrupted by whimpers. Mike barely reacted to Athel crouching down by his head.

 “Doctor?” Athel asked. “That is his name?”

 Mike shivered, and curled in tighter on himself. He’d given another name. How much longer until he began to give details?

 “I’ll take that as a yes. Interesting…”

 Mike’s fingers twitched from the damage to the nerves in his hand. Another wave of nausea rolled through him.

 ********

 “Here,” Benton said, pulling over the UNIT truck to the side of the road where they had found the remains of Mike’s car. The street was busier now in the mid-afternoon.

 The Doctor got out the second the car stopped, and turned to grab the energy-detection device from the seat. Benton got out on the other side, and pointed out at the road and to the grass to let the Doctor know the radial distance. Alistair also got out and went to the Doctor’s side, watching the device in the Timelord’s hand.

 The Doctor hummed after a moment. “It’s definitely picking up some non-natural energy trace. But…” He brought his thumb to his mouth. “But with it having happened days ago, it’s quite weak. It’s dissipated.”

 “No way to boost the trace?” Alistair asked.

 The Doctor stepped out onto the road, and Alistair pulled him back before he could get hit by a passing car. The Timelord flashed a grateful smile at him before taking several steps into the now-empty road. Then he turned and walked into the grass.

 “It’s strongest here,” the Doctor said, about where Benton had found Mike’s hat. “No wait, there’re two types of energy. One that comes from the road to here, and one that is concentrated here.” He blew out through his nose. “Neither is strong enough to do anything with.”

 Benton and Alistair deflated at the verdict.

 “At least… not with what I have in my hands right now. I can record the energy signatures, and return to HQ. See if we can’t isolate and use other instruments to track it.”

 “You mean that?” Benton asked.

 “Of course I do, Sergeant. I want Mike back as much as you two do.” He gave them a small assuring smile. “Don’t give up hope.”

 ********

 Mike had been put in the hanging chains not long after Athel had broken his hand. This time he had been positioned differently. He was leant forward, his arms pulled up and back behind him in an uncomfortable angle. His shaky legs held him upright, but he knew if they gave out, he’d suffer a dislocated shoulder at the least. His injured hand throbbed intensely.

 He had also been blindfolded when he’d been restrained. He had expected to immediately have been hurt more, but he had been left alone. He could hear someone in the room with him, but hadn’t called out to find out who it was.

 His head hung low, so tired. So much pain over his body… He wanted this to end. He wanted to go home to Benton… Mike stopped that train of thought. He couldn’t afford to think of him, or the others, now. He had to keep his thoughts free of them, make it harder to answer the questions.

 Mike flinched as an unfortunately familiar hand touched his chin. The motion pulled his shoulders, and he quickly corrected. He stood still as Athel’s hand caressed his cheek.

 “You remind me of a tamed kejtal. Quietly spirited, stubborn, resilient, and beautiful.”

 Mike didn’t know what a kejtal was, but it did sound like an animal of some sort. His mind conjured a different animal and a memory. He couldn’t help the hysterical quiet laugh. “Ch-Cheshire cat, Captain Yates, Cheshire c-cat…” he breathed.

 “What?” Athel inquired.

 “N-nothing.” Mike weakly shook his head. Then he realized this wasn’t worth more pain. “Cheshire cat. Something the… a couple friends called me once.”

 Athel didn’t ask exactly what a cat was, probably also figuring it was an animal. His hand moved up to pet through Mike’s hair.

 Tears began to dampen the blindfold. “Cheshire cat, Captain Y-Yates…” he whispered to himself. “Cheshire cat…”


	8. Chapter 8

 “Hello, my kejtal.”

 Mike glared at the Cahayan through the force-field of his cell. “Don’t call me that.”

 Athel smiled, and paced outside the cell. Mike closed his eyes and tried to turn over to face the wall. He gave up halfway through due to the severe ache in his shoulders.

 “You want to go home, yes?” Athel said after a minute of silence.

 Mike didn’t respond, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about how much he did want to do just that.

 “I would take you back where I found you.”

 Mike shook his head, finding it so very difficult not to listen to the offer. “Wouldn’t be worth it.”

 “You’re certain of that?”

 Mike opened his eyes to stare at the other man. He knew he didn’t look strong, and he certainly didn’t feel it. “I’m not… I’m not giving you anything. Give up.”

 Athel smirked. “I could give up… with you. It would be a shame, but I could take someone else from UNIT and try again. I have time.”

 Mike shot upright, and regretted the motion at the spike of pain in his head. “No!” He wasn’t going to let anyone else go through this. And what if Athel managed to get Benton or the Brigadier especially next time? No, he wasn’t going to be weak enough to allow that.

 Athel didn’t look at all disappointed. “I am not lying when I say I will return you home if you cooperate.”

 “I don’t care.”

 Athel hummed. “Well, if you do not wish to return home, return to your John...”

 Mike forced the thought of Benton’s warm embrace away.

 “Perhaps I could bring him here to be with you?”

 “No!” Mike instantly protested. Bring Benton here? That was completely out of the question.

 “No? I wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t touch him.”

 Mike vehemently shook his head. “I-I can’t trust that.” He couldn’t stop the images of Benton being tortured like him from flooding his mind. Hot tears leaked from his eyes. “No.”

 Athel lowered the force-field and stepped into the cell and looked his captive over. “Are you… are you afraid of him seeing you like this? So… tired and hurt and weak?”

 Mike set his jaw. “No.” The tears down his cheeks ruined any chance of appearing convincing.

 Athel stepped forward and crouched down. He studied Mike’s face, and raised a hand to it. Mike flinched backwards, but Athel pushed forward anyway. Mike backed fully against the wall, but Athel’s hand still came upon his cheek and moved up to pet the hair at the side of his head. He tried to push the alien away, but Athel stayed firm, and his free hand hovered over Mike’s injured one as a silent threat.

 “You are fracturing,” Athel stated. “Like a crack on a pane of glass.”

 Mike shook his head, but he knew it was the truth.

 “And you will break.”

 Mike tried to keep his gaze level with the other man’s, but couldn’t under the intensity of the stare.

 Then, Athel moved away, got up, and left his prisoner.

 Mike tilted his head back against the wall, and curled his broken hand under his other forearm. He couldn’t stop the image of Benton’s arms wrapped around him as they awakened on a lazy morning.

 ********

 “I’ve got those satellite reports you wanted, “Jo said as she entered the Doctor’s lab. “UK owned satellites only, I’m afraid.”

 “That’s alright, dear. It’ll be a good start, at least,” the Doctor responded, clearing a bit of space off a counter for the papers. He got to a good stopping point of breaking down the two energy signatures from the street, then opened the file folder of the top report.

 He leafed through it and the next few, and nodded to Jo in appreciation. “Yes, these should do for now. I’ll just need to finish isolating the components, then we can look for anything that matches.”

 “Doctor?”

 “Hm?” He went back to his energy-reading device.

 “What if…” Jo couldn’t help but ask the question. “If it really was a spaceship that took Mike… what if it’s not hanging around?”

 “That’s what the satellite reports will hopefully tell us. We’ll know one way or another soon enough.”

 “So no point in worrying until we know,” Jo replied with an attempted smile.

 “Exactly. It won’t do to have our spirits down.”

 “I suppose.” Jo sat on a stool, and stared at the stack of satellite reports.

 The Doctor isolated another piece of the energy trace. “Right, Jo, start sorting through those. We’ll need any that have both alpha waves and a frequency above…” He mentally converted the measurements. “Eighteen gigahertz.”

 ********

 All of Athel’s physical gentleness from earlier was gone as he swung the short staff. Mike, on the floor with his hands chained together behind his back, cried out as the hard wood struck across his side. It was all he could hope for that none of his ribs would be broken by this abuse.

 “Come now, Mike. UNIT’s resources.”

 Mike clenched his teeth, and air was forced through them at the kick to his exposed chest. He tried to curl up, but the staff came down on his shoulder and turned over onto his back. He cried out and quickly rolled onto his side again as his broken hand flared from having pressure put on it.

 “UNIT’s resources, Captain!” Athel shouted.

 Mike’s head pounded, the pain rising at the loudness of the alien’s voice. He said his own name in response.

 Athel swung at Mike’s lower back, catching the hands and making his prisoner howl. The next strike was to his face. It opened a cut above his brow, and blood sluggishly flowed out. Then Athel stopped.

 Mike took the chance to breathe and mentally work through the new pain. He had no doubt his chest and abdomen were going to be heavily bruised, having been the focus of the attacks.

 Athel kicked Mike onto his back, and sat down, straddling on his waist before he could turn over again. Mike yelped, whimpered, and squirmed as his hands were trapped between his body and the hard floor. He lifted his shoulders, but couldn’t maneuver his hands up higher. His eyes widened as Athel moved higher up Mike’s body to directly add to that weight on his hands.

 “No, please! Get off, get off!”

 Instead, Athel held the staff in both hands along its length, leaned forward, and held it under Mike’s chin. “Give me the answers. UNIT’s resources.”

 Mike felt something move in his broken hand, and tried to roll over again. Athel’s weight didn’t give him an inch.

 Athel pressed the staff down hard on Mike’s throat, and the captive struggled to breathe under it. Little strained sounds escaped from his mouth.

 Between the lack of oxygen and the building sickening pain in his broken hand overriding everything else, grey spots swam at the edges of Mike’s vision.

 He gulped in air when Athel pulled the staff away. Instead of the alien being frustrated at the lack of answer, Athel seemed content. Mike knew he had a twisted sense of pleasure at hurting him in different ways, and his continued defiance would give Athel more chances to do so. Unfortunately, Mike didn’t doubt the man’s creativity.

 Athel set the staff aside, but didn’t get off of the squirming man. He bent over low, and rested his hand on the bare chest. He whispered his repeated demand, and when he didn’t get the answer, his four claws stabbed into the skin underneath and slowly dragged down.

 Mike screamed and tried his hardest to kick or buck the alien off. It lasted only a few seconds before Athel removed his claws from his skin. Mike looked down at his heaving chest, the leaking blood obscuring how long or deep the gashes were.

 Then, finally, Athel got off of him, and Mike instantly rolled over onto his side to relieve the pressure on his hands. The alien gave him a moment, then crouched down and unchained his wrists. Mike quickly moved his broken hand to his abdomen and curled around it.

 “Tell me about your Doctor.”

 Mike closed his eyes and shook his head. He yelped as Athel suddenly grabbed him around the middle, hoisted him up, and dropped him. He landed on his hands first, and howled from the agony. He drew his knees up under him, rested his forehead on the floor, and pressed his hands to his abdomen. It was the most protective position he could manage.

 Then Athel knelt behind him and bent over him. Mike felt something hard press against his backside, and his mind instantly reached only one conclusion. The positioning was certainly right. He panicked, trying to scramble forward with his good hand and his bare feet. But Athel had a strong grip around his bloody chest.

 “No, don’t! D-Don’t do that! P-please!” Mike’s hand slipped in the blood on the floor, but he pushed himself back up and kept trying. His fear rose. He had to get away. If Athel did this…

 Mike choked as the staff came up under his chin and pulled back against his throat. He still tried to frantically get out from under the larger man.

 “What has you in such a state?” Athel laughed.

 Mike’s hand stopped clawing along the floor to try to pull the staff away when he couldn’t get any more air in. Athel laughed again when he finally let Mike breathe. His hand around Mike’s middle found the broken hand and he squeezed it tightly, eliciting a scream from the man. He pressed harder against him. Mike couldn’t do anything to try to scramble away.

 Then the alien released him, though Mike only had a short moment of respite before he was kicked over onto his back. Athel stomped on the broken hand, and ground it down against the floor.

 Mike’s entire body seized from the intense agony, then he started clawing at Athel’s ankle and his legs kicked out desperately.

 “B-Brigadier!” came the desperate scream for help. “Doctor!”

 Was it too much to ask for them to find him?

 The heavy boot stomped down on his hand again, and his vision blacked out for an instant. “John!”


	9. Alternate Chapter 8 Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This Chapter 8 alternate ending is purely self-indulgence that I couldn't help but write. This does not actually happen within the story. I just felt like being evil >:)
> 
> Warning: Non-Con

“Tell me about your Doctor.”

 Mike closed his eyes and shook his head. He yelped as Athel suddenly grabbed him around the middle, hoisted him up, and dropped him. He landed on his hands first, and howled from the agony. He drew his knees up under him, rested his forehead on the floor, and pressed his hands to his abdomen. It was the most protective position he could manage.

 Then Athel knelt behind him and bent over him. Mike felt something hard press against his backside, and his mind instantly reached only one conclusion. The positioning was certainly right. He panicked, trying to scramble forward with his good hand and his bare feet. But Athel had a strong grip around his bloody chest.

 “No, don’t! D-Don’t do that! P-please!” Mike’s hand slipped in the blood on the floor, but he pushed himself back up and kept trying. His fear rose. He had to get away. If Athel did this…

 Mike choked as the staff came up under his chin and pulled back against his throat. He still tried to scrabble out from under the larger man.

 “What has you in such a state?” Athel laughed.

 Mike’s hand stopped clawing along the floor to try to pull the staff away when he couldn’t get any more air in. Athel laughed again when he finally let Mike breathe. His hand around Mike’s middle found the broken hand and he gripped it tightly, eliciting a scream from the man. He pressed harder against him.

 Athel let the hand go a moment later, but kept his arm around Mike’s middle as the captive still struggled to get away. “Oh, I think I see. Now that is something I can take.”

 “No, no!” The instant Athel loosened his grip, Mike shot forward. But the Cahayan seized the waistband of his torn and bloodstained trousers and yanked him back with a mocking laugh. 

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “Don’t- not that, please!” Mike begged through a sob. He still fought to escape the grip.

 Athel let him go, only to snatch him back again. “No. Where are you going to go?”

 Mike tried to kick out behind him. The alien was toying with him now. A predator playing with his prey. His kick glanced off Athel’s side, which only made the Cahayan laugh.

 “Oh yes, this will be fun.” Athel gathered Mike close to him and bent over low to say into his ear, “I don’t normally allow myself this, but for you-”

 Mike snapped his head to the side in an attempt at a head-butt. Athel barely seemed to feel it. “P-please, don’t! Athel, please, please! I don’t-“ He froze at the fingers sliding down his abdomen to the fly of his trousers. Then he started to kick and flail again. “No!”

 Athel forced Mike’s head down to decrease his struggling. His hands still scrambled along the floor, but he was well and truly caught. “Let’s see if we’re compatible enough, shall we?”

 “No!” Mike screamed, trying to wriggle his head from under Athel’s large hand. He clenched his legs together at the invasive hand that slipped down under his trousers and underwear. “St-stop!” His eyes squeezed shut as the scaly fingers found his cock and gave it a few experimental strokes.

 “Yours are kept externally when not in use. Interesting. Ours are protected internally.”

 Mike didn’t want an anatomy lesson on either Humans or Cahayans. He just wanted to be returned to his cell and left alone. Why couldn’t he just be left alone?

 A loud sob escaped from his mouth as his trousers and underwear were roughly yanked down. “P-please… don’t, Athel, don’t…”

 “Your pleading is so nice,” Athel remarked into Mike’s ear.

 Tears streamed down Mike’s face as Athel rutted against him. His frantic clawing had slowed, his energy sapped from the earlier beating and struggle.

 “Compatible, yes,” Athel determined.

 “J-John…” Mike cried. He choked at Athel’s arm looping around his neck and roughly pulling him up from the floor a few inches.

 “No, this is Athel Cyprian, Mike.” He shoved Mike’s head back down. “You can still stop this. Tell me about UNIT’s resources.”

 Mike bit his lip so hard it bled. He could stop this here. He could, but his resolve to protect his world managed to override all his other instincts. “I-I can’t. Please…”

 “Such a loyal soldier,” Athel cooed, petting his prisoner’s hair.

 Mike’s hand fisted tightly and nausea rose in him in sick anticipation. His body stiffened at the cool scaly skin against his backside. He closed his eyes tightly, tears freely dripping from them.

 He started to fight again at the warm and hard thing that began to press against him. He bit back nausea at the inherent subtle sliminess of it. He could tell the cock was large and heavy, and his body tensed even further somehow.

 “Good. Make this difficult.”

 “No! St-stop! P-please!” His voice broke into a yelp as the head of it pushed in, tearing past the muscle. It hurt so much. The yelp transitioned into a longer scream. His guess had been right, it was so big, larger than Benton or any previous partners had been. And with no preparation-

 Athel shoved in further, and Mike’s hand on the floor splayed as another scream came from his mouth.

 “N-no, p-please, please, stop, p-please…” It already felt like he was being split in two, how much more of it was there? He didn’t think he could handle any more.

 A third large push in, and Mike barely registered the feeling of Athel’s thighs against the back of his own through another hoarse scream. His eyes rolled back for a few seconds. He turned his head to directly face down on the floor, and brought his uninjured hand to his chest, close to his broken one. He didn’t care that it dragged through the blood next to him.

 “Very good, Mike,” Athel said, petting the man’s hair as he shifted his hips in adjustment. “Definitely compatible.”

 All Mike could do was cry and wail from the intrusion. He took one deep shuddering breath as the alien pulled out most of the way. That was all he got before Athel slammed back in. All the air rushed from his lungs in the loudest and longest scream yet. He hadn’t thought it could get any worse from the pain of the initial sheathing, but he had been wrong.

 Athel petted down Mike’s back. “It feels so good inside you.”

 “G-get… get it… over with…” Mike said, his words muffled from biting down on his hand. He wanted this to end, all of this to end. Why couldn’t he just let it end?

 Athel firmly gripped Mike’s waist, the small claws digging into the skin. Those were barely a blip on the man’s pain radar. How could they be anything more with the invasive thing inside him?

 Then, Athel withdrew partway, and thrust back in, starting to fuck him vigorously.

 Each thrust in elicited a cry from the captive. Even if Mike had opened his eyes, he barely would’ve been able to see through the flowing tears stinging them. He couldn’t be anywhere else, couldn’t imagine anything else.

 Mike ended up flat on his front, with Athel now slamming directly down into him. He had moved his hands out to his sides to prevent the broken one being trapped again. The uninjured one stayed tightly clenched.

 Athel gripped Mike’s hair and yanked his head up, causing a strain in his neck.

 After another minute, Athel pulled out, easily flipped Mike over onto his back, lifted his legs, and thrust in again.

 The new position somehow brought new pain to it.

 “Open your eyes,” the alien demanded.

 Mike couldn’t. Not with the agony building inside him.

 “Open your eyes, Mike.” Athel backhanded him when he didn’t obey.

 Mike complied, seeing only the blurred blue shape over him.

 “Very good.” Athel didn’t ease his hard and fast pace at all. “Such a beautiful human.”

 Mike closed his eyes, and opened them again at the immediate slap. He didn’t see the hand descend on his throat. It squeezed, cutting off his air. He couldn’t cry out, could barely sob through it. A particularly savage thrust in addition to that made his vision black out for an instant.

 He heaved as the hand let go of his neck, and fresh tears burst out as that hand came down hard on his deeply scratched chest.

 Mike had no way of knowing how long it was until the Cahayan pulled out and stood. And when he did, all Mike could do was close his eyes and slowly turn over onto his side. He raised his hand to his mouth. He was so exhausted, so hurt. Please no more, he mentally begged. He couldn’t-

 Athel grabbed him again and lifted him to his unstable feet. Mike needed to be completely supported. “You think I am finished?”

 “No…” His protest was weak. “No m-more…” He couldn’t fight as his wrists were lifted over his head by a guard and locked into the hanging chains.

 Athel positioned himself behind Mike, wrapped his arm around his waist and lifted him, pulled his head up and back, and said into his ear. “I will let you know when I am finished.”

 Mike howled at the fresh agony as he was forced down on to the waiting cock.

 And when he was finally released from Athel’s hold and the chains, something wet painted across his lower back, all he could do was curl in a loose ball on the floor. “B-Brigadier…” he sobbed for help. “Doc… Doctor…” His eyes closed. “John…”


	10. Chapter 9

 “Brigadier,” Jo went into the man’s office and smiled at him. “We’ve made progress. The Doctor wants to see you in the lab. Shall I get Benton?”

 “Yes, please do.” Alistair stood. Progress at last. Hopefully continued progress would happen much more quickly, for Captain Yates’ sake.

 “Have a seat,” the Doctor invited when he entered the lab.

 Alistair claimed a stool nearest the Doctor. A minute later, Jo returned with Benton.

 “You really mean it? You’ve made progress?” Benton asked of the Timelord.

 “Of course I mean it, Sergeant. Now…” The Doctor took a breath. “Jo and I have been able to track the movements of the energy signals via satellite reports. What we can assume is a spaceship of some sort is in orbit, and staying there.”

 “You know where it is?” Alistair asked.

 The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Not quite. It’s been changing its relative position to Earth. It started over England, where Mike was taken, then hours after, moved to over Zimbabwe, then to northern India…”

 “I see.” Alistair sighed and thought. “Smart, changing position. Gives they, whoever they are, a tactical advantage, if we can’t find where they are until they’ve left it.”

 “But, it’s staying in orbit, you said?” Benton asked. At the Timelord’s nod, he tried to stay optimistic. “That means Captain Yates isn’t too far.”

 “We just have to track the signal to where they currently are before they can leave it,” Jo stated.

 “Yes, well, that’ll be easier said than done, I’m afraid,” the Doctor admitted. “Brigadier, if we could get access to live satellite feeds, our chances of doing just that would increase. If not live, then with as little delay as possible.”

 “Of course. We can no longer afford to chase after them. We have to catch up to them.”

 “Exactly. Once we pinpoint their current position, we can go after them in the Tardis.” The Doctor smiled hopefully. “Let’s get to it.”

 ********

 “Well, Doctor, I’ve made the request,” Alistair said as he strolled into the lab. “I only hope they take it seriously.”

 “Why shouldn’t they? A man’s life it at risk,” the Doctor replied. “One of your best men.”

 “I know. I stressed that in my request.”

 “So, what do we do when we find out where this ship is?” Benton asked, drinking coffee at a table with Jo.

 “We are only going to get there in the Tardis, right?” Jo inquired.

 “Yes, yes of course.” The Doctor smiled apologetically. “Well, not you, Jo.”

 Jo looked affronted. “But-“

 “No,” the Doctor insisted. “I’m sorry, but what we need is a small team. As small as possible to avoid being detected quickly.”

 “You, me, and Sergeant Benton?” Alistair suggested.

 “Exactly,” the Timelord nodded. “Enough to rescue Mike and figure out what they might want with us.”

 “Suppose they’re not friendly,” Benton brought up. “They did kidnap Captain Yates, after all. Violently, by the state of his car.”

 “We shouldn’t go in shooting,” the Doctor advised.

 “Perhaps not,” Alistair agreed. “But what if their purpose is hostile? How should we deal with them?”

 The Doctor stirred his coffee as he thought. “We’d hardly want to start a war with whoever they are. Killing the crew or destroying the ship could elicit such a response. Even taking the crew prisoner ourselves…”

 Alistair sighed. “Seems to me they might want to start a war with us.”

 “That doesn’t mean we should also want one,” the Timelord said impatiently. “No, we should… send them back the way they came. Only if they leave us no other option should we respond with outright violence against them.”

 “You said there is only one of these ships. Scout?”

 “Possibly. Or it could be one person acting on their own. Brigadier, we won’t know until we get up there. Still, I gather from the readings it is a rather large ship…”

 Alistair nodded. “Yes, you’re right. The stealthy approach would be best.”

 “Good. I’m glad we sorted that.”

 “But how do you intend on sending them back wherever they came from?” Jo asked.

 “If I could get to their bridge console, I think I could find a way.”

 “And you’re sure you wouldn’t need me?”

 “Quite sure, Jo.” The Doctor smiled assuredly. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring back Captain Yates.”

 Jo half-smiled back. “I don’t doubt that.”

 “And if we do end up needing more than just the three of us?” Benton prompted.

 “Then we simply get back to the Tardis, return here, and get more men,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. We don’t want to risk more lives or give whoever they are a chance to run without us on board. If they leave orbit without us, tracking them would become near impossible.”

 “Then let’s plan for multiple situations for the three of us,” Alistair decided.

 ********

 Mike awakened in his cell. He didn’t have to guess to know he had lost consciousness during another session again. He gingerly arched his back, and also knew he had been tended to by the medical team.

 Mike snorted. Patched up and healed in certain places just so he could be hurt more. He could tell they hadn’t done anything for his broken hand. They hadn’t the previous time he’d been taken to them, either. No, that seemed to be off-limits, and Mike wondered how much more abuse it could take before the damage became irreparable.

 How could so much of his body hurt so badly at once? Even with the trip to the doctors, it still hurt so much.

 He tried to turn over onto his side in an attempt to get proper rest, but couldn’t quite manage it, and resigned to lying still on his punished back. He knew he must be quite a sight, skin bruised and cut and otherwise marred in various places, his trousers blood-stained and ripped… lying on what was barely even a cot with his arms over his middle. He couldn’t help the tiny snort at the thought of a bath. How much he would love a proper bath, instead of just the sprays of water the doctors would do when they tended to him.

 How long had he been here? He reckoned it must’ve been several days at least. But really, Mike had lost track of real time, the only way to tell any sort of time being when he was in his cell versus being tortured in the interrogation room.

 Had he answered any questions in the previous session? He couldn’t remember, and his unbruised eye widened in panic.

 He gritted his teeth and took deep breaths through them in an attempt to calm himself. He couldn’t… he couldn’t afford to worry about that, to think about that. He simply had to focus on not answering any more questions.

 “Find me…” he begged towards to ceiling of his cell. “P-please…”

 Could they even find him? Could they even start to look for him? Every interrogation session, he lost a little more hope that they could. He tried not to, he truly did. But somehow, it felt the longer he was here, the less chance he had of being rescued.

 Mike was so tired, and this time he managed to roll over onto his side and face the wall. He cradled his broken hand close to his chest, and closed his eyes.

 But sleep wouldn’t come, as much as he wanted it to. Something would keep spiking or throbbing in pain. His injured hand was the worst, expectedly.

 “Please…” His voice was so hoarse and ragged from all the accumulated screaming and no doubt also effected by the near-strangulations and drownings. “F-Find me…”

 Mike still hadn’t gotten to sleep when he heard the force-field shut off and someone step into his cell to grab him for the next session.


	11. Chapter 10

 Mike Yates wasn’t going to break. He wasn’t going to break.

 No, when he reached that point, he was going to shatter. The fractures in his pane of glass had become full deep cracks, and it would shatter. It was no longer a question of if, but when. He’d tried so hard, but he was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

 Mike cried out at the whip snapping across his side. He had expected his nerves to dull to the various methods of pain, but they hadn’t. It all still hurt so much. As much as it had at the start of this. Possibly more with all the accumulated pains.

 Athel grabbed the prisoner’s hair and pulled his head back. “Tell me about the Doctor.”

 Hadn’t he just asked about UNIT’s resources? Or had that been the previous session? It was all blending together, and Mike didn’t know how to make it make sense anymore.

 Mike didn’t answer, simply taking the respite from immediate pain to breathe. His third breath turned into a hoarse yell as the burning device came down onto his throat. The fingers of his uninjured hand in the manacles spread wide. He tried to lean backwards to get away from the thing, but only Athel was behind him, and kept him in place.

 “P-please…” Mike sobbed as the device was finally taken away and Athel let his head drop.

 “You know how to make this end,” the Cahayan reminded, walking around to Mike’s front. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about John, or the Brigadier instead?”

 “N…no…”

 Athel gripped Mike’s chin to push his head back up. His thumb rested over the human’s parted lips. His other hand came up to stroke around the edge of the bruised eye.

 Mike shuddered, and his knee buckled. Athel stopped him from dropping too far to hurt his shoulders more.

 Mike kept his gaze down, not able to bear looking into the cool blue eyes. He couldn’t be so blatantly defiant anymore, no longer having that strength.

 “No, no, look at me, kejtal.” Athel ordered.

 Mike blinked slowly, but still did so. “St-stop… please…”

 “I stop when you give me what I want from you. That is the only way, Mike.” Athel sighed and studied his captive’s face. His hand moved to pet a blood-tinged section of Mike’s hair.

 “I… c-can’t…” He said it more to strengthen his own resolve than as an answer.

 Athel let go of Mike’s head and took half a step back. Then he kicked out at the injured knee, making the other man fall until the chains pulled taut over his head.

 Mike yelped at the blow to his leg and the resulting yanking of his shoulders and broken hand.

 He felt the cracks within him deepen further.

********

 “The most recent batch of satellite reports, Doctor,” Benton said, setting down the folders on the counter. “From about thirty minutes ago.” He was dressed in his combat uniform, ready to go at a moment’s notice. The Doctor knew Alistair was as well. They weren’t going to waste any time when they got the information they needed.

 “Good, start looking through them,” the Doctor said, taking half of the stack to do the same himself. He had sent Jo home a couple hours ago to get sleep, despite her protests.

 Benton got a start on his portion, having to force himself not to rush in his eagerness to find what they needed. The answer could be here, and they couldn’t afford to miss it due to his carelessness.

 Several minutes later, Benton’s eyes widened as he found the energy signals they were looking for. “Doctor, this one!” He handed the page to the Timelord. “Over Peru around an hour ago.”

 The Doctor quickly read through it, and nodded. “Good work, Sergeant. Find the Brigadier. We have to go as soon as possible.”

 Benton hurried out. The Doctor wrote down the precise coordinates. Then he gathered his sonic screwdriver and a couple other small devices that could help them deal with whoever these people were, if talking with them didn’t work. He unlocked the Tardis door and impatiently waited in front of it.

 Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, and the Brigadier and Benton hurried into the lab. “Come on,” the Doctor beckoned.

 “Ready, sir,” Benton affirmed as he stepped into the Tardis.

 The Doctor set the coordinates into the console, and activated the main rotor. “Please be there,” he said quietly.

 Alistair leaned forward against the edge of the console. Benton stayed near the door. All three men were clearly anxious.

 They were all grateful that the Tardis landed a minute or so later. The Doctor opened the doors, and quickly moved to step out first.

 They’d landed in what looked like a cargo hold. “Right on target,” the Doctor affirmed. “Unassuming spot.” He turned to the other two. “Try not to forget the way back here in case we’re separated.”

 Alistair simply nodded, then asked, “Shall we go?”

 It only took a minute for them to find the door of the cargo hold and immediately come across a muscular blue-skinned reptilian man.

 “Hello,” the Doctor greeted, even when the man drew a gun. He stepped in front of Alistair to prevent his immediate equal reaction. “Would you mind if we could see the person in charge? It’s just that-“

 The alien aimed his gun directly at the Doctor. “Where did you come from? Humans, Earth?” He pulled what looked like a radio from his belt, no doubt to call for help.

 Benton drew his gun, the motion distracting the alien long enough for the Doctor to kick the weapon from his hand and get three strikes on him, ending with the Doctor having him bent backwards with two fingers pressed to his chest.

 “We only want to speak with whoever’s in-“ The Doctor barely pulled back in time from the claws swiping for his face.

 Alistair quickly knocked him unconscious with a blow to the back of his head with the butt of his gun. Once the Doctor let the alien go with a disappointed breath, Alistair and Benton quickly dragged him into the cargo hold and behind a stack of large crates.

 When they rejoined the Doctor, the Timelord said, “I really was hoping to avoid that.”

 “Maybe the next one will be friendlier,” Alistair replied with a hint of sarcasm. “Come on.”

 ********

 Athel slowly opened another deep cut down Mike’s back, making the captive cry out and throw his head back.

 “D-Doctor!”

 “Yes, what about him?” Athel encouraged.

 He was breaking, despite all his efforts, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It all hurt so much, and he just wanted it to end. He’d done his best, hadn’t he? That was the truth, wasn’t it? He couldn’t… “Doc…tor…” he sobbed. “Can’t…”

 Athel trailed his bloody finger across Mike’s back, bicep, and chest as he came around front. He considered him for a long moment, then reached up and undid the right manacle while kicking the injured knee.

 Mike wasn’t expecting it, and cried out in pain as he fell and his left shoulder wrenched. He struggled to get his feet under him to relieve the building intense pressure in his shoulder and hand. He managed to get one planted and push up just enough to prevent a full dislocation of his shoulder.

 Athel circled the struggling man. “You’ve held out admirably, Mike.”

 All Mike could think of was to get his other leg steady underneath him, but his bare foot slipped on blood and yelped as he fell again.

 Athel was content watching the man writhe in pain as he tried to relieve the pressure. Mike barely noticed the guard come in and quietly speak to his torturer.

After a moment, Athel undid the other manacle and let Mike fall into a heap on the floor. Mike immediately curled onto his side and cradled his broken hand close.

 “We’ll have to continue this later, kejtal. It seems something else unfortunately calls for my attention.” To the guard standing inside the door, he instructed, “Leave him like that. He won’t be going anywhere.” He kicked Mike in the middle of his back on his way out.

 Mike knew Athel was right. All he could do was lie there, doing the little he could to protect himself from any further abuse while he was gone.

 “F-find me…”


	12. Chapter 11

 A door slid open to Benton’s left. He checked inside, gun raised in case of another member of the crew was in there. He let out a small breath of relief to find it empty of people.

 His eyes widened at the two large screens against the wall, and he slowly stepped towards them. Two frozen images, both of the man they were here to rescue, the man he loved. He swallowed heavily, feeling nauseous at the sight. “Mike…” he whispered.

 One screen showed Mike lying still on the floor, streaks and small pools of blood around him. His face was half-hidden from view under his arm. His chest was also stained red, and Benton saw the ends of deep cuts in the skin. The other screen showed Mike standing in chains, his arms halfway above his head, face contorted in agony as another of the reptilian aliens pressed something circular to his side. In both, he was dressed only in his uniform trousers.

 Benton then took a step back. He barely remembered not to shout for the Brigadier and the Doctor, and hurried out. They hadn’t gone too far ahead, and he caught up to them. “I… I found something. It’s about Captain Yates.”

 The other two men didn’t need any more convincing, and followed Benton. When they got inside, the Doctor quickly turned to the door and fiddled with the control panel beside it. “That should give us some privacy.”

 Alistair swallowed at the screens. “Well, that confirms they’ve been…”

 “Torturing him,” Benton finished, his hand clenching into a fist at his side.

 The Doctor turned to see the screens, and grimaced. “Oh, Mike…” He inhaled deeply through his nose, then stepped forward to the screens.

 Alistair cleared his throat, and joined the Doctor’s side. “What is this, then? Recordings of what they’ve been doing to him?”

 “Looks like it.”

 Benton couldn’t look at the images any longer, and turned to the door, rationalizing it as keeping guard. They made him feel sick to his stomach, and angry.

 The Doctor sat in the chair and experimentally touched the touch-controls under the screen of Mike in the chains.

 Benton immediately holstered his gun to cover his ears with his hands at the sudden scream. He didn’t want to see whatever it was, but couldn’t stop himself from looking at the screens again, and he froze at the now moving image of Mike screaming. The Doctor winced and quickly found the way to lower the volume.

_“Come now, Mike,” said the alien on the screen when the scream had faded._

_“No…” Mike responded, his head hung low. “No…”_

_“Tell me about UNIT’s resources.”_

_Mike’s head transitioned from shaking to being thrown back as he howled at the circular device being pressed against his abdomen._

 The Doctor thankfully made it stop by backing out of the recording, and found a menu screen of other files. He chose one at random, and fast-forwarded through the alien striking and choking Mike with a staff. He let it resume normally when the alien had released him.

_The alien kicked Mike over onto his back and stomped down on his left hand and ground down on it. Mike writhed and kicked and clawed as he screamed, desperate to get away._

_“B-Brigadier! Doctor! John!”_

 Benton stepped forward at the cries of their names. Mike sounded so desperate, so agonized, and it felt like a stab into Benton’s heart. How many times had Mike cried out for them, for him? He wanted to tell the Doctor to turn it off, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work properly.

 The Doctor stopped the video and returned to the menu. “Sorry.”

 “But why?” Benton found his voice after they were all silent for a long moment, half-choked with emotion. “Why record…?“

 The Doctor turned to him with a sad smile. “For if Captain Yates does say something useful to them. They’d want a record.” He looked back to the list of what he assumed were different interrogation sessions. “Perhaps also to figure out if he responds to certain… methods over others, or…” He shook his head, and grabbed a small personal computer tablet.

 Now Benton couldn’t stop staring at the other image of Mike, lying on the floor and surrounded by his own blood. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed. He wanted nothing more than to rush out now and find that room.

 “What are you doing?” Alistair asked the Timelord.

 “Transferring the records to this smaller computer for us.” Before the Brigadier could question why, he added, “It would be easier to treat him if we know exactly what’s been done to him.” He took a deep breath. “And… to know if he told them anything.”

 Benton noticed the slight movement of Mike’s chest, in time with a breathing rate. “Doctor, I think that one’s already playing,” he pointed out.

 The Doctor looked to the other screen. “Yes, it is.” He focused back on transferring the files to the tablet. Several seconds later, he looked back up to the other screen, at what was a date and time in the top right corner. Then he looked at the list that had finished transferring. “That one didn’t come through.”

 “It’s live- a live feed,” Alistair realized. “We need to find out where that room is.”

 Benton’s heart leapt in his throat. Mike was there now? In the middle of being tortured again for who knew how many times? “We should go, sir.”

 “Not yet, Sergeant.” The Doctor slid the tablet into his interior jacket pocket and got out of the video menu. “What we need is a map. Surely this would have…” He fell quiet as he searched through the computer system.

 “Doctor,” Alistair impatiently prompted.

 “It would be better if we knew exactly where we were going,” the Doctor pointed out. A map showed up on one of the screens. “There we are.” He stood and studied it for a long moment.

 Benton grew more impatient with each passing second, even though he knew the Doctor had a point. Every second they spent in this room could be one more second of Mike being hurt. Seeing him on the screen, being left alone didn’t do much to reassure him.

 “I think the best course of action would be to split up,” the Doctor said, turning to the soldiers.

 “I thought we wanted to avoid that? There are only three of us.” Alistair pointed out.

 “I know,” the Doctor replied. He took the Tardis key from around his neck and considered it for a second. Then he handed it to Benton. “You need to get Mike back to the Tardis.” He looked to Alistair, “And you and I will go to the bridge, see if we can’t get anyone to pay attention or send them back to wherever they came from.” He looked at the map. “And stop by the medical centre on the way and collect anything that could help our Captain Yates.”

 Alistair nodded to Benton, who then asked, “Right, Doctor, which way to that room?”

 The Doctor lifted a finger and pointed out where they were and where the interrogation room was. Benton studied the route for a minute, then nodded. “Got it.”

 “Go, Sergeant,” Alistair said.

 Benton stuffed the key into his pocket, and checked the coast was clear before he hurried out. “I’m coming, Mike. I’m coming.”

 ********

 Mike stayed as still as his pained body could manage. He couldn’t stop the long high-pitched moans accompanying his exhales. He couldn’t think about anything except all the agony. And at the moment, all that mattered was that he was being left alone. Whatever had unexpectedly called Athel’s attention… he only hoped it wasn’t bad news that could make the Cahayan go even harder on him.

 This was it. He couldn’t hold out any longer. And if Athel came back angry… “S-sorry…” he said to his nonexistent friends and lover.

 

 Benton opened the door to what he really hoped was the right room, and shot the guard standing just inside the door with the gun he had taken off the alien he had knocked out on his way here. Once the threat was taken care of, he froze at the sight of the man on the floor.

 Mike was practically motionless, and Benton’s heart broke at the moans of pain that came from him. Benton could see more of the other man’s exposed back and side from this angle, and the mess of welts and deep cuts and bruises…

 Benton snapped out of it quickly. “Mike!” he said as he rushed to the middle of the room.

 Mike was dreaming, somehow. He had to be, to hear one voice he had wanted to hear saying his name. Couldn’t be real…

 Benton fell to his knees in front of his partner, not caring about the blood that now stained his trousers. He looked down at him, not touching him, not quite sure how to proceed. It had been one thing to have seen Mike’s physical condition on the screen, another to be here with him, seeing it all up close. “Mike?”

 “N-no…” Mike couldn’t open his eyes or raise his head. If it wasn’t a dream, it had to be a trick. Benton couldn’t be here.

 “Mike, please?”

 The voice was louder now. Mike flinched and whimpered at the hand that came down on his shoulder. Only now did he open his eyes and move his arm enough to look up. He blinked slowly in disbelief. “J-John?”

 Benton felt another stab to his heart at the tiny desperate way his name was said. He leaned in closer. “Yes, I’m here, Mike. I’m here.”

 “C-can’t be…” But he believed it, knew it was true when he inhaled through his nose and caught the lingering scent of the other man’s soap. He let his arm drop to the floor to fully see him. “J-John?” his voice broke. Benton’s hand on his shoulder felt so right.

 “That’s right, it’s me.” Benton could barely control his own emotion in his voice. After over a week of not knowing what had happened to Mike, here he was. Hurt and vulnerable, but here.

 Mike’s mouth twitched into a tiny quick relieved smile as he took in the man above him. His uninjured hand reached out to feel the fabric of the combat jacket. Then, he remembered an offer, or was it a threat, and panicked. His eyes widened. “You c-can’t be here. You… he… he b-brought you, and- Y-you can’t… I t-told him I-I didn’t-“

 Benton gently shushed him to stop his incoherent rambling. “I can be here. I am, I promise.” He scooted forward.

 “H-he said he wouldn’t… wouldn’t hurt you, b-but I don’t t-trust…” Mike swallowed heavily, and he sobbed, “He f-found you. I must’ve t-told him…”

 “Mike, stop.” Benton bit his lip to stop himself from simply picking Mike up and running for the Tardis. The tortured man fell quiet, and Benton continued, “This is a rescue. And we have to go now, alright?” He took off his jacket and laid it over the abused torso.

 “Can’t…”

 “Nonsense. I’ll carry you.” Benton gingerly rolled Mike onto his back, and grimaced at the whimper of pain it brought the other man. “I’m sorry.” Benton noticed the way Mike was more protective of his left side, and decided it would be best served protected against his body, and moved to adjust for that. He rose to a crouch and slid his arms under Mike’s knees and shoulders. “But we really need to go.”

 Mike cried out as he was lifted, feeling pain just about everywhere.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Benton quietly apologized. Soon enough, he had Mike settled cradled in his arms, his head lolled against his chest. Mike’s left hand, which didn’t look good at all, rested on Mike’s abdomen. With Benton’s jacket wrapped around him, most of the visible damage was now hidden, which helped the sergeant focus.

 This was all happening too fast for Mike to understand. He closed his eyes. “Where… we going?”

 “Home. We’re going home, I promise.”

 “Home…” His right hand weakly gripped the front of Benton’s shirt.

 Benton allowed himself a quick kiss to the top of Mike’s head with a whispered, “I love you,” before he set off.

 Benton hurried as quickly as he dared, gently shushing Mike when his whimpers from being jostled became loud. He had to keep stopping whenever he thought he heard approaching footsteps. They would be safe when they reached the Tardis.

 Benton reckoned they were about halfway there when something barreled into him from behind. He fell, and Mike went flying from his arms.

 Mike yelped as he landed on his dislocated shoulder and rolled to a stop on his front.

 “Where do you think you’re going, kejtal?” 


	13. Chapter 12

 Benton immediately pushed himself back up to his feet to stand between the alien and Mike, and drew his gun. “He’s going home,” he stated. He couldn’t focus on the pained sounds coming from behind him, as much he wanted to rush to his partner and comfort him. He had an immediate threat to deal with first.

 But Benton wasn’t prepared for the burst of speed from Athel, who ducked under the gun and swatted it from his hand, and then tackled the sergeant into the wall. The other firearm dropped from between his belt and trousers at the impact. Athel didn’t let Benton even get a single hit on him before he straightened and served an elbow to the side of his head.

 Stars burst in Benton’s vision, and he quickly found himself pitched to the floor after a hard punch to his midsection. He scrambled for his gun, but was caught by a strong hand gripping the back of his shirt and yanking him backwards. He blindly kicked back, and missed. A knee came up to his stomach, and he grunted out the air in his lungs at the hard impact.

 Benton pushed himself upright and turned, just in time to raise his arms to block the punch to his face. Athel dropped low and swept Benton’s legs out from under him, and he landed on his back. Athel pounced on him, and Benton against had to raise his hands to protect his face. He caught Athel’s fist in one hand, and served a punch of his own. Athel caught his hand.

 They pushed against each other, Benton straining more than the alien. Benton could feel the power behind the other man’s hands, and swallowed in worry as he lost ground. Steadily, Athel pushed Benton’s hands down to the floor beside his head.

 “Physically stronger than Mike,” Athel noted.

 Benton gritted his teeth as he tried to push back up, then decided to snap his head up. His forehead caught the bridge of Athel’s nose, but it didn’t have the impact he’d hoped for. Athel still backed away a little, but without any expression of pain. He released Benton’s wrist and quickly fully extended his claws to rake through the fabric of the soldier’s shirt.

 Benton gritted his teeth through the pain as the alien left cuts down his chest. He punched again, this time connecting squarely on Athel’s jaw. Athel instantly retaliated, and blood burst from Benton’s nose and began to well in his mouth from the strike. Then he got off of Benton to tend to his aching jaw.

 Benton rolled over onto his front, going for his gun again. He grunted as two feet came down on his back to stop him. Athel straddled Benton’s waist, and his claws made another deep mark on the back of the sergeant’s shoulder.

 Mike had needed a minute to clear his head enough to open his eyes and see what was going on. “John!” he cried out at the sight of the man struggling with Athel on his back. He uselessly reached out with his good arm, too far to actually do anything.

 Athel froze for a second, one hand gripping Benton’s hair. Then he turned his head to Mike with a predatory smile. “John?” He got the answer from the anguish on his prisoner’s face. He stared down at the man beneath him. “You’re his John.”

 Benton’s hands still scrambled to try to get to his gun. Athel yanked on his head, and turned and positioned them so that they were directly facing Mike’s prone form. They were close enough to clearly see the fear on Mike’s face. Benton stopped struggling, and all he and Mike could do was look to each other.

 Athel yanked Benton’s head up further. His clawed fingers ghosted down Benton’s face until they came to rest on his exposed throat. 

 Benton heavily swallowed at the tips just barely pressing against his skin, the threat clear.

 “N-no!” Mike protested. “D-Don’t hurt him!”

 “Yes… I did say I wouldn’t,” Athel replied. He withdrew his hand from Benton’s throat, and placed it on the man’s shoulder to keep him down.

 Benton breathed a little easier, but he was still caught.

 “A fellow soldier,” Athel mused. “I suppose that does make sense.” He half-retracted his claws and slightly dug into the already made cuts in the shoulder.

 Benton winced, but stayed still and kept his eyes on Mike.

 Athel laughed at Mike’s attempts to crawl forward. The captain couldn’t move forward more than a few inches before his strength completely failed him.

 “I’m s-sorry…” Mike whispered to Benton. Seeing Benton in Athel’s clutches, blood flowing from his nose and the corner of his mouth… he felt something break inside him. “P-please…”

 Benton crawled forward, but stopped as the claws pierced into the already torn flesh again. He could feel the blood from his chest and shoulder seeping into the fabric of his shirt. He spat the blood in his mouth to the side.

 Athel bent low over Benton. “Your Mike… he suffers beautifully.”

 Benton ignored the stinging in his shoulder as he tried to fight again. Athel slammed his forehead to the floor, dazing him enough to stop.

 “No!” Mike protested.

 Athel raised Benton’s head and chided, “Now, John, he doesn’t want me to hurt you.”

 “L-let him go, please,” Mike begged.

 “Let him go? He somehow found a way onto my ship. No, he came here of his own accord.” Athel sighed with a small grin. “And you can do nothing.” He lifted his hand from Benton’s shoulder, and started petting the hair at the side of his head.

 Tears began to blur Mike’s vision, and he closed his eyes and dropped his head to the floor. “S-sorry, John.”

 “No,” Benton replied. “Not your fault.” He reached out to Mike’s extended hand, but couldn’t reach it.

 “You should be proud of him. Everything I’ve been doing to him-“

 Everyone flinched at the sudden gunshot. The bullet struck the wall past Athel.

 “That will be your only warning. Get off him,” Alistair demanded. More gently, he asked, “Captain Yates?”

 Mike raised his head at the voice. Somehow in disbelief even with Benton being here. But it wasn’t his imagination. The Brigadier was here, aiming his firearm at Athel. And when the Doctor caught up a few seconds after, a satchel over his shoulder, Mike’s addled brain thought they had been caught too, and that he had failed in keeping them safe. He knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t get the logic to stay, and his heart sank in quiet anguish.

 Athel didn’t move off of Benton, instead tilting his head. Then his mouth opened in a pleased expression. “Oh… Brigadier? And… Doctor?” They didn’t answer, but he laughed at the knowledge. He looked to Mike. “They’ve all come to rescue you. How poetic.” He smiled at the Doctor and Alistair. “He’s been crying for you. Screaming, begging…” Athel exhaled. “Now what to do now that you’re all here? I have a feeling you might be tougher to break than Mike.”

 “Let go of my men!” Alistair commanded.

 Athel shook his head. “I am the captain of this ship, Brigadier. And I have questions for all of you.”

 Mike’s wince at the word ‘questions’ turned into a sob.

 “You don’t like that, kejtal?” Athel taunted the tortured man. “I’d be busy with them and leave you alone. I’ll even leave this one here-“ He yanked Benton’s head up. “Alone.”

 “N-no…” Mike instinctively cradled his injured hand closer. “Don’t, please…”

 Alistair fired another warning shot past Athel’s head. He raised his voice. “Do not test me. Let them go. Last chance.”

 “I told you, I am captain of this ship.”

 “I don’t see how that helps you right-“

 A strong hand came down on the Doctor’s shoulder. He spun and struck the guard in the side of the neck. Alistair let off another shot at Athel before he also had to face a guard.

 Athel dodged the third bullet, but stayed on top of Benton. One Cahayan knocked the gun from Alistair’s hand. The Doctor turned, kicked that guard’s arm, then grabbed it to flip him over his back. Alistair took the chance to grab his gun, and ducked a punch from a third guard and swiped that gun from his belt. He shot that guard with the alien firearm and was satisfied as he dropped.

 Athel served a strike to Benton’s temple to keep him down, then got up to join the fight.

 Benton’s eyelids fluttered at the blow, but the Brigadier’s order of, “Benton, go!” helped him shake it off faster. He didn’t need to be told twice, and surged forward to Mike. Mike had curled up as soon as the fight had started, but Benton didn’t have time to assure him and get him to relax.

 Benton scooped Mike up, and ran. He felt someone grab the back of his shirt, but they instantly dropped, and he kept going. Mike cried out from the movement and uncomfortable hold, but there was nothing Benton could do about it. He couldn’t afford to take that into account this time.

 “I’m sorry,” Benton said, feeling a twinge in his chest at another cry as they rounded a corner. “Just hold onto me.”

 Finally, Benton saw the door to the cargo hold, and exhaled in relief that it opened to is presence. He rushed to the Tardis, almost running into the door in his anxious state. “I’m going to have to put you down for a second,” he warned Mike before he lowered the other man’s feet to the floor.

 Mike was simply too tired and hurt to support his own weight, and he desperately grasped the front of Benton’s shirt as Benton’s arm around his shoulders tightened uncomfortably to help.

 Benton fished the key from his trouser pocket, slid it in the lock, and shoved the door open. He took the key out, picked Mike up, and rushed inside. The doors closed behind him.

 Then he collapsed to his knees in front of the console. They were safe. Nothing could get into the Tardis.

 Benton lowered Mike’s lower half to the floor. He sat cross-legged to hold Mike more gently, cradling him in his arms. “We’re safe, Mike,” he said. “We’re in the Tardis.”

 Mike’s body shivered as he looked up at Benton. His uninjured hand clenched loosely in response to all the various pains in his body. His breaths were short and ragged.

 Benton wrapped his jacket around Mike more securely. Seeing the agony in his partner’s bruised and blood-stained face, and hearing that in his breathing…

 “I’m here, Mike.” This was all he could do to comfort the other man. “I’m here. I love you.”

 “John…” Mike closed his eyes. His uninjured hand came up to grasp at Benton’s shirt.

 Benton lowered his mouth to Mike’s head, planting a light kiss in the hair. When he raised his head, he noticed the hair was now bloody, and he panicked at the thought of an unknown head injury. Then the iron taste in his mouth made him remember, and he raised his hand to his mouth and nose to check.

 Benton shook his head as his hand came away red. He wiped at his nose with his sleeve, then opened his mouth around the material to let it absorb some of the blood welling there.

 He took a moment to check the slashes on his chest, and was relieved that they weren’t as deep as he had thought, the bleeding having already slowed to a sluggish trickling.

 A loud whimper from Mike brought Benton’s attention fully back to him. “I know, I’m sorry,” Benton apologized. He was sorry for so much. “But I’m here, and we’re safe… I love you... We’re safe…”

 Still, every passing moment, Benton’s anxiety rose. The quietness of the Tardis, save for Mike’s ragged breaths and moans, only heightened it more. The Doctor and Alistair were still out there. What if they needed his help? He couldn’t get Mike home without them, and he wasn’t going to abandon them even if he could operate the Tardis on his own.  

 Thankfully, he was saved having to make the impossible decision to leave Mike to try to help them. At the urgent knocking and calling at the door, Benton reached up to the door control on the console.

 The two men outside rushed in, and the doors closed behind them. The Doctor immediately started the dematerialization.

 Mike’s distress rose at the sound, and Benton made soothing sounds to ease him.

 Alistair kneeled down next to them, and Mike registered his presence. “B-Briga…dier?”

 “It’s alright, Captain. We’ve got you.” Alistair’s voice slightly cracked with emotion. He placed a gentle hand on Mike’s right shoulder. “You’re safe now, Mike.”

 Mike weakly nodded. He turned his face into Benton’s chest, his body violently shivering in the warmth of the jacket and Benton’s hold.


	14. Chapter 13

 “Alright,” the Doctor breathe as he stepped back from the console. “We’re going to float in the Vortex for a little while, while I tend to Mike’s immediate needs. Sergeant?”

 Benton nodded, and positioned his arms under Mike’s knees and shoulders to pick him up again. He gently shushed the injured man at the high-pitched whimper as he rose to his feet with the Brigadier’s help.

 Alistair followed them through the interior door. When they got to a certain door, the Doctor pushed it open and said to him, “My bedroom. You can rest here.”

 “What? But-“

 “I’d rather not risk you as well, if Mike has some sort of infection. I might have to quarantine them both until I figure that out.”

 Benton looked down at the hand shaking against his chest. “It’s alright, Captain,” he soothed, biting back his desire to kiss his forehead. Mike blinked slowly, his eyes glazed.

 Alistair didn’t argue, not wanting to delay Mike being helped. “If you think that’s best.”

 “I do. If I need you, I’ll get you. Come along, Benton.”

 “You really think he could be infected with something?” Benton asked a moment later as they hurried to the infirmary.

 “It’s a possibility.” The Doctor pushed open the door to the infirmary and pointed to a surgical table. He rifled through cabinets to find what he might need in addition to what he had taken from Athel’s ship’s supplies. “And if it’s passed via blood, I can’t tell which is his and which is yours.”

 Benton gently set Mike down on the table. Mike immediately tried to turn onto his side and curl up, and Benton had to pull him back so he wouldn’t fall off. “Stay still,” he said softly. He gave attention to the other man’s shivering by holding the front of his jacket closed. He felt his forehead with the back of his hand. “Doctor, he’s quite warm.”

 “Probable fever, not surprising.” The Doctor went to the other side of the table. He pressed a button, and short barriers came up on both sides to prevent the injured man from falling off. “Mike? Are you with us?”

 Mike turned his head to the Timelord. “D-Doc…?”

 “Yes, very good.”

 “Hurts… ev-every…”

 “We’re going to take care of that.”

 Mike stared past the Doctor, not really seeing anything beyond the purple velvet with his tear-blurred vision. A series of low agonized whimpers escaped his throat.

 “Can’t you do anything about the pain?” Benton asked, keeping one hand on Mike’s right shoulder in case he tried turning over again. It hurt to hear the strained noises on every one of the other man’s breaths. He had to shake his head to force away the sounds of his screams from the videos.

 “That would be helpful, yes.” The Doctor returned to the cabinets. “I should have something…”

 Benton bent over Mike and quietly watched the other man. 

 Then, without any warning, Mike shouted and flailed his working arm. “No! P-please!”

 Benton took the wrist and held it down to the thin cushion of the table. In answer to the Doctor’s call asking what happened, he said, “I don’t know!” He swallowed heavily and bent over close. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

 Mike violently shook his head, and he tried to snatch his wrist from Benton’s grasp. He weakly kicked out. “D-don’t… no m-more…”

 “No one is going to hurt you,” Benton insisted.

 “Keep him down,” the Doctor instructed, still looking for the item.

 “I’m trying.” Benton decided to loosen his grip on the other man’s wrist, hoping that might calm him. Mike yanked his hand away, and hovered it protectively over the broken one on his abdomen. Benton returned his hand to Mike’s shoulder to lessen his thrashing. “Captain!” he said loudly in an attempt to get through.

 But there was no stopping the agonized panic in Mike’s body, the naked fear in his wide clear eyes, the pain coming through in his voice…

 The dam inside Benton broke and couldn’t hold his emotions in any longer. “Mike,” he said more quietly, bending over low. Mike didn’t seem to hear, and he repeated the name. “Mike, I’m here.” He couldn’t stop the cracking in his voice. “I’m here, love.”

 “Please…”

 “No one’s going to hurt you, Mike.” Benton’s hand on his shoulder slid up to caress his cheek. “It’s me, it’s John.”

 “J-John? N-no, he-“

 “We’re safe, we’re in the Tardis.”

 Mike’s weakly kicking legs didn’t stop, and he still tried to roll over or push himself up without use of his hands.

 “You need to calm down.” Benton blinked away the coming tears. “Please, you need-“

 “C-can’t…” Mike turned his head to where the Doctor had been standing, and quickly turned back to Benton, his panic renewed.

 “No, no, no, Mike.” Benton lowered his forehead to Mike’s, ignoring the hand pushing painfully on his scratched chest. “It’s me. We’re safe in the Tardis. Please, calm down.” He closed his eyes. “I love you. You hear me, Mike? I love you. So please, for me?” His hand stroked through his partner’s bloody hair. “Please, love.” He barely registered the Doctor’s shout of, “Found it!”

 “Sorry, John…” Mike’s eyes squeezed shut, forcing out more tears.

 “No need to be sorry,” Benton assured.

 The Doctor glanced between the small mask in his hand and the still kicking man. The pair were too physically close to slip it over Mike’s face. He determined that trying to force it would send him into a larger panic.

 “Hurts…”

 “I know it hurts. I’m sorry, I know.” Benton’s tears dropped down to the other man’s face to join his. “But we’re going to make it stop, alright?”

 Mike’s hand tightly fisted in the ripped shirt. “Make it st-stop…”

 “Yes, yes we will. But you need to calm down. Please?” Benton moved his head up to kiss Mike’s temple. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear. His fingers continued going through Mike’s hair as he soothed, “I’m here… We’re safe…”

 Eventually, Mike’s body slowly calmed under Benton’s tender attention. When Benton thought he was pacified enough, he lifted his head. “Right, Doctor,” he prompted.

 Mike tried to turn his head to the Timelord, but Benton caught him and turned him back to him before he could, understanding now that there was something in that direction that had set him off twice. 

 The Doctor placed the half-mask over Mike’s mouth and nose, and pressed a button on the bottom. Benton watched as he relaxed more, feeling the tight fist on his shirt loosen.

 Now that didn’t have to fully focus on calming Mike, Benton looked in that specific direction, and realized what had scared him. On a counter was some sort of medical device, and it was a certain colour. He tried to go over to move it or cover it, but Mike’s hand in his shirt and his distressed whimper stopped him. “Okay, I’m not going anywhere.” He caught the Doctor’s eye and gestured with his head to the counter. He whispered, “Hide that… circular thing with a rod on one end.”

 The Doctor didn’t question, and quickly did just that, finding a small tarp to throw over that part of the counter. Benton held the mask to Mike’s face and kept him from looking over there.

 The Doctor came back, and soon enough, under the influence of whatever gas was coming from the mask, Mike body relaxed the most it could. His hand let go of Benton’s shirt. Benton caught it and set it down at his side. Mike’s eyes were glazed again, and he stared up at the ceiling.

 The Doctor took away the mask and set it aside. He took a moment to look Mike over, deciding what to do first. “I’m sorry, Captain, but we’re going to have to take that jacket.”

 Even with whatever the Doctor had given him, pained little cries and whimpers escaped his mouth as Benton helped Mike up to a sitting position and held him there.

 Once the jacket was off, the Doctor winced, now that he could see the full damage done to his friend. “Let’s start with resetting that shoulder.” He and Benton switched sides. “I’m sorry, Mike, but this will hurt.”

 

 Some time later, they finally had Mike taken care of and recovering, lying unconscious on a bed. A blanket covered his lower half. Bandages were wrapped around his torso. His bad arm was in a sling, his forearm and casted broken hand rested on his abdomen. The visible bruises contrasted grimly against his pale skin.

 “Your turn, Sergeant.”

 Benton turned to the Doctor. “Sir?”

 The Doctor gestured for him to sit on an exam table. “You’re injured, too.”

 “Oh.” Benton looked down at himself. “I’m alright. It’s only a few scratches.”

 The Doctor’s expression left no room for argument, and Benton sat on the table. He took off his shirt, grimacing at the sting in his chest and back.

 “That’s what I thought,” the Doctor said lightly. First, he took a sample of Benton’s blood and set it with the one from Mike for later analysis. Then he started to examine the scratches. “Not as bad as the ones on Mike,” he stated.

 They were quiet as the Timelord set to work. Then, halfway through cleaning the cuts on Benton’s back, he suddenly remarked, “You both make quite a handsome couple.”

 Benton tensed and froze, only now realizing what he’d done in front of the Doctor. With the crisis over and Mike taken care of, he could allow himself the anxiety that came with this.

 “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” the Doctor assured in response to the reaction.

 That did little to lessen Benton’s worry. Someone at UNIT now knew of their relationship.

 The Doctor moved to stand in front of the sergeant. “Did you hear me? I apologize for causing any distress. I didn’t mean any. I won’t betray what you’ve been keeping secret.”

 Benton shook his head to snap out of his racing negative thoughts of what could happen. “You mean it?”

 “Of course I do.”

 Still, Benton fell awkwardly silent as he let the Doctor continue treating him. He was grateful when the Doctor changed the topic a few minutes later with, “How did you know it was that particular object that upset him?”

 “It’s… it’s light red, a similar colour to the chains in that room.”

 “Good observation.”

 “At least this room isn’t the same colour as that one.”

 “Indeed.” The Timelord finished up by placing bandages over the scratches, which already looked better. He considered the alien device next to Benton that he had also used on Mike. “Handy little thing, administering accelerated tissue regeneration.” The other stolen supplies, including one meant for healing more internal wounds and bones, were on the nearby table.

“They used it on him, didn’t they?” Benton asked. “Some of those marks on him looked too healed to have happened within a week.”

 The Doctor gravely nodded. “Heal him only to hurt him more.”

 Benton gingerly stretched his arms to the sides. “What did you do with those people?”

 “Sent their ship back to where they came and locked those coordinates into their system. They won’t be coming back for a long time, if at all.”

 Benton wished there had been far more to their punishment than simply sending them home, but he didn’t say his opinion. “And… those videos? Are you really going to watch them?”

 “Perhaps.”

 Benton shuddered at the idea, and Mike’s screams from them echoed in his mind.

 “I’ll spare you the details if I do.” The Doctor smiled warmly. “Any more questions?”

 Benton shook his head.

 The Doctor went over to collect the blood vials and the satchel, which still contained the stolen computer tablet. He gestured to the bed next to Mike. “Then you might as well get comfortable. We’ll be back at HQ soon, but I’m placing the two of you under quarantine until I analyze these. It may take a while to run it through everything in the Tardis medical banks.”

 Benton understood the importance and didn’t argue. “Yes, sir.”

 The Doctor tidied up a little, and before he left, said sincerely, “I’m glad you have each other.”

 “So am I,” Benton breathed. He went over to Mike, and bent over to kiss his temple. “We’ll be home soon, I promise.”

 Then a sudden exhaustion washed over him, and he backed up to sit on the edge of the offered bed. He watched Mike for a couple minutes more, then laid down, and closed his eyes.


	15. Chapter 14

 The Doctor joined Alistair in his bedroom, and heavily sat on the edge of the bed.

 “How are they?”

 The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “They’ll be alright. Benton wasn’t badly hurt. I expect Mike will make a full recovery.”

 “That’s good to hear.”

 “They will be quarantined for the time being.”

 “You’re not going to place yourself in that?”

 “I was careful.” The Doctor pulled the computer tablet from the satchel. “And then there’s this…” He then stood and said, “Come on, Brigadier. Let’s get back to HQ.”

 “What about the recordings?” Alistair asked as they walked to the console room. “I do need to see them.”

 “No,” the Doctor replied with a heavy sigh.

 “No?”

 “I will.” Before Alistair could protest, he explained, “Going by what was on the small parts we already saw on the ship, what they did to him… I think it would be best if as few people as possible viewed everything. He wouldn’t want everyone to see. As I already said, I should to treat him to the best of my ability.”

 “And what about if he did tell them anything important?”

 “I’ll let you know.” The Doctor set the coordinates for them to materialize.

 “Doctor, as his commanding officer-“

 “Brigadier, please.” The Doctor’s mouth tightened for a moment. “The results of what they did to him were horrific enough.”

 Alistair relented. “Very well.” He didn’t really want to see the full extent of what had happened to the captain. The parts he had were already terrible and sickening. He shuddered as he recalled the alien stomping down on Mike’s damaged hand. If the Doctor preferred to take that burden off him, he was thankful.

 They felt the Tardis land, and the Doctor opened the doors for the other man.

 ********

 Benton snapped to full awareness at the loud whimpers from the next bed. “Mike?” He rushed over to the other man’s side.

 Mike’s eyes were tightly shut and he trembled. Benton bent over close and said, “Hey, I’m here, Mike. I’m here.” He took the uninjured hand gently. “Wake up? Please?” He carded his fingers through Mike’s hair. “It’s alright…”

 Mike’s eyes snapped open a moment after, and they darted around in a panic.

 “You’re safe,” Benton consoled, drawing back to fully see his face. “We’re safe.”

 It took Mike several seconds to understand that, and he swallowed and asked, “Where?”

 Benton grimaced at hoarse whisper. “The Tardis infirmary. We brought you here and treated you, remember?”

 Mike slowly blinked and gave a tiny nod. He shivered. “Hurts…”

 “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything about that.” To see him in so much pain and unable to do anything… “The Doctor will be back soon. Maybe he can.”

 Mike seemed accepting of the answer, and closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he weakly raised his hand in Benton’s to touch the other man’s cheek. “John… love you…”

 Benton held that hand to his face and smiled. “I love you, too, Mike. It’ll… it’ll be alright.”

 The corners of Mike’s mouth twitched upwards, but his face contorted slightly at another pain. He squeezed his eyes shut as it went through his arm and hand. He focused on the gentle hand in his hair to work through it. Once it had faded to a more tolerable level, he opened his eyes again.

 His eyes fell upon the bandages on Benton’s chest. He looked up to Benton’s gaze, also staring at the bruise on the side of his mouth and nose for a few seconds. The memory of him on the floor with Athel on top of him came to the front of his mind. “H-hurt you…” He hadn’t been able to stop it.

 Benton shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not bad, I promise.” At Mike’s anguished expression, he added, “Worth it, to get you back.” He nuzzled his cheek against the other man’s hand. “And it’ll fully heal, just like you will. We’ll both be alright.”

 Mike gave another tiny nod. He took as deep a breath as he could manage. “Home…”

 “We’ll go home soon, when you’re better.” A shuddered breath came through. “I’m so sorry.” He watched as Mike’s eyes closed again, and felt his hand relax against his cheek. He gently placed that hand at Mike’s side. “I love you…”

 ********

 “Doctor?”

 The Timelord ignored the greeting as he simply sat at a counter in his lab. He had his arms on the table, his hands over his lower face. His eyes were closed. The previous night had been rough, and he had gotten no sleep. He had checked on the pair in the Tardis infirmary three hours after they had landed back in HQ. Mike didn’t wake up, though he had been encouraged when Benton reported he had not long before.

 Then… then he had watched Mike’s interrogation sessions. He’d had some idea what to expect, and he had still been shocked by it. To see his friend subjected to such brutality… He would only admit to himself that he wished he had done more to punish that despicable Athel Cyprian than sending him home.

 “Doctor?”

 The Timelord snapped out of his reverie as Jo dragged a stool next to him. “Yes?”

 “Have you made any progress in finding Mike?”

 The Doctor nodded. He forced an upbeat tone in his voice. “Yes, we found him last night.”

 Jo beamed. “That’s marvelous! Where is he? The infirmary or the hospital?” She got up, ready to go wherever it was.

 “They’re in the Tardis infirmary, recovering.”

 “They?”

 “Benton got a little beat up in the rescue.”

 “And Mike?” Jo’s question was ignored. She went to the closed Tardis door and looked at him expectantly to open it. “I’m going to see them. Let me in?”

 The Doctor rose and went over to her. “No, not now.”

 “Why not?” Jo’s brow furrowed.

 “They’re in quarantine until I know they don’t have any sort of alien infection. Besides that, they need rest. Mike especially isn’t up for visitors right now.”

 “Is he… is he alright?”

 “He will be.” The Doctor grimaced. “I won’t lie to you. He was hurt very badly.”

 “How do you mean?”

 “He was… interrogated and tortured.”

 Jo brought her hand up to her mouth. “Poor Mike,” she whispered.

 The Doctor put his arm around her and led her away from the Tardis. “They’ll both make a full recovery. Although Captain Yates will have to take it easy for a while.”

 Jo smiled at the attempt to lighten the mood. “He won’t like that.”

 “No, but he won’t argue if he knows what’s good for him.”

 “Tell me what happened?”

 The Doctor obliged, hoping it would give him some reprieve from the images and sounds of their friend’s sadistic treatment before he had to write the report.

 ********

 Alistair read through the Doctor’s written report of the interrogation recordings, and it made him even more grateful the other man had taken the burden of viewing them. He looked up to the Doctor, sitting on the other side of his desk.

 “Yes, I know,” the Doctor said, reading Alistair’s expression. “And yet, through all that, he didn’t tell Athel anything except part of our names.” He blew out a breath and tilted his head back. “In that regard, I think we were fortunate to have found him when we did. I doubt he could’ve lasted longer.”

 “That… wouldn’t surprise me. Still, he stayed strong.”

 “I couldn’t have blamed him if he had broken before we rescued him.”

 Alistair glanced down at the report again before he agreed, “I couldn’t, either.”

 “I should know the results of the blood tests in a couple of hours, and I’ll check on them again then.”

 “If they’re clear of any infections?”

 “I’ll still want to keep Captain Yates in the Tardis. I’d rather not move him if he’s comfortable and feels safe there.”

 “I suppose that’s fair enough. And Benton?”

 “He’ll be allowed to leave. But I think I’d rather keep him a little longer to help watch over Mike.” He rose to his feet. “Oh, would you have some food for them brought to my lab in two hours?”

 “Of course.” Alistair managed a small smile as the Timelord left. “Take care of them.”


	16. Chapter 15

 “Hello, again,” Benton said softly as Mike’s eyes opened. He gently combed his fingers through the front of the other man’s hair to ease him back into awareness.

 A smile flickered across Mike’s features. “John?”

 Benton nodded. “Do you know where we are?”

 Mike glanced around. “Tardis?”

 “That’s right.”

 Mike winced, and shifted in discomfort. “My back…” His teeth gritted.

 “Maybe we could turn you onto your side?” Benton suggested. At the injured man’s nod, he helped him roll until he was mostly on his right side. “Better?”

 “A little.” He clenched his right hand. “Still hurts… a lot.”

 “I’m sorry.” Benton took Mike’s hand between both of his. “I can’t risk giving you anything that might hurt you.”

 “Not your… not your fault.”

 “The Doctor should be back soon. Do you think you can stay awake for him?”

 “I’ll try.” Mike shifted again and closed his eyes. “So tired…”

 “For me?”

 Mike opened his eyes and focused on the concerned man. “I’ll try.” He roughly breathed through the various pains in his body. “Talk to me?” He stared at their hands. “How long…?”

 “How long… were you there?” At Mike’s nod, Benton grimaced. “I don’t really think-“

 “P-please? Tell me?” His eyes widened and slightly glazed over. “I-I had no way to know time. There… there was my cell and that… that room.”

 Benton’s hands around Mike’s tightened at the broken voice. “Eight days.”

 “Eight… eight days?”

 Benton gravely nodded. “I’m so sorry it took so long to get you.” His voice cracked.

 Mike didn’t register the apology. “Eight days…” he whispered.

 “Mike?”

 Mike snapped out of it, and refocused on Benton. “S-sorry.” Then a sudden sob came through.

 Benton moved in closer and laid his hand on Mike’s cheek. He made soothing noises to calm the injured man. “But you’re here, safe now with me.” He kissed his temple. “And… and you’re going to be okay.”

 Tears hadn’t quite come through, and Mike tried to take deep breaths. They went in shuddered, but it still helped.

 “I’m here, love,” Benton consoled. “I’m not letting you go.”

 “John?” Mike’s fingers tightened around Benton’s hand.

 Benton kissed the back of the other man’s hand. “Yes?”

 Mike moved forward as much as he could manage. “I-I’m… I’m with you.”

 “Yes, yes you are. Just rest, alright?”

 Mike gave a tiny nod as he closed his eyes. Benton stroked his fingers through the hair at the side of his partner’s head. “Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded.

 “I’m not.” Mike was quiet for a long moment anyway. Then he inquired, “Why… why the Tardis and not… hospital?”

 “The Doctor thought it would be best to treat you here, with all the… with what needed to be done. And he wanted to make sure we weren’t infected with anything alien and pass it on to others.”

 Mike accepted the answer with a simple hum, though Benton heard the strain in it. “You don’t have to hold it in for me, you know,” he said. “If you need to… to cry or anything.”

 Mike heavily swallowed and looked to Benton. “I-I didn’t think so much could… could hurt like this.”

 “What’s the worst?”

 “My… my hand.” His eyes squeezed shut at the memory. “B-broke it… with a hammer…”

 Seeing Athel stomping on it had been bad enough, and Benton was relieved that he wasn’t going to see anything more for himself.

 “Wouldn’t let the doctors… wouldn’t let them p-patch it up or anything. Kept… kept hurting it more…” The fingers of his broken hand twitched and his eyelids fluttered. “D-Doctor…”

 “No, no…” Benton leaned in close. “Stop thinking about it. You’re here with me, remember?”

 Mike blinked hard and sucked in several breaths through his teeth. “Here with you.”

 “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Benton shook his head. He sighed, “Hurry back, Doc.” His hand in Mike’s hair stilled. “And you… you just… lie there and think of anything else and relax, alright?”

 Mike hummed and closed his eyes.

 Benton inhaled deeply, and stood from the chair. At Mike’s whimper and tightened grip on his hand, he explained, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m only stretching.” It took the other man several seconds to reluctantly let go.

 Benton took a few steps to the side and stretched his arms up over his head, grimacing at the pull of the healing skin of his chest and back of his shoulder.

 He had sat down and been holding Mike’s hand for only a few minutes before the door opened. He slid his hand from his partner’s in a learned action of keeping their relationship secret.

 “It’s only me, Sergeant,” the Doctor greeted.

 Benton’s hand returned to Mike’s, and he gently squeezed it briefly.

 Mike gingerly turned his head back to see the Timelord, and ended up rolling onto his back. “Doc… Doctor.”

 “It’s so very nice to see you awake,” the Doctor smiled. He placed a large covered tray on a counter. “How are you feeling?”

 “He’s in a lot of pain still,” Benton answered.

 The Doctor smile faltered. “Yes. Only to be expected.” His smile returned, though not as full as before. “There is something I can do.” He retrieved the small mask.

 The Doctor cautiously approached Mike and leaned over him. “I just need you to breathe into this several times. Would you do that for me?”

 Mike’s body stiffened, and his eyes widened. “C-Captain Mike Y-Yates, Captain Mike-“

 The Doctor shut his eyes and sighed sadly. “Mike, it’s alright. I’m only helping you.”

 Benton was confused, but brought a hand up to smooth down the distressed man’s hair. “It’s the Doctor. He’s going to help with the pain.”

 “S-sorry, I…” Mike cleared his throat, and winced as the motion aggravated the bruised flesh there.

 “It’s alright, dear chap.” The Doctor waited until he was sure the man was fully with them again. “I’m going to put this over your face for a few seconds. Is that alright?”

 Mike nodded. Still, his hand in Benton’s tightened in anxiety as the Doctor did so.

 “Breathe normally,” the Doctor advised when he noticed the nervous short breaths. “You’ll feel it begin to work soon.” When Mike listened, the Timelord counted out five breaths before he removed the mask. “That’s a good lad.”

 “A little better,” Mike said quietly.

 “Good. Now, I’m going to look you over, and then I’ll let the two of you eat.”

 “Bang on time with that, Doctor. I’m famished,” Benton remarked.

 “Yes, I thought you might be.” He returned to the counter of medical instruments.

 Mike was relaxed enough to allow Benton to let go of his hand and join him. Benton asked quietly enough to not be overheard by the man behind them, “What was that about? Him saying his name?”

 “It was a method he used to prevent himself from answering questions,” the Doctor whispered.

 “Repeating his name?”

 “Yes.”

 “So you… you did watch those…?”

 The Doctor turned his head to meet Benton’s gaze and nodded gravely. Benton saw a bare sadness and hurt in the blue eyes. Then the Timelord gently patted Benton’s forearm and requested, “Help me with him?”

 “Of course.”

 The Doctor’s smile returned as he went back to Mike. “Other good news. You’re both clear of any alien infections that I could detect.”

 “Oh, that’s a relief,” Benton replied. “So we’re no longer in quarantine?”

 “Precisely.”

 The Doctor and Benton helped Mike sit up so the Timleord could undo the bandages and check on the man’s chest and back. He continued talking. “Jo is eager to see you both. It was a bit of a task earlier persuading her you aren’t up for visitors at the moment.”

 “I bet,” Mike responded.

 “If you do want to leave the Tardis, I think I could move you to the infirmary or a hospital.”

 Mike shook his head. “I… like it in here. Quiet and… safe.”

 “I thought you might say that. I’d be happy to have you.” The Doctor began to use the tissue regeneration device on Mike’s back. “Benton, the Brigadier has already approved you staying here, too.”

 Benton’s brow furrowed. “He has?”

 “Yes, to help me look after Mike.”

 “Oh, right.”

 “Our good captain’s welfare is a high priority, as it should be.” They were all quiet for a couple more minutes, until the Doctor moved to Mike’s chest, and asked Benton to hold the slinged arm away from the healing wounds.

 The Doctor then moved down to Mike’s legs, now also paying attention to the injured knee he hadn’t known about until he had watched the recordings.

 Benton simply held his partner, feeling the tension in his body through the pain he was still in.

 “You hand will take the longest to fully heal,” the Doctor stated as he and Benton finished changing Mike’s trousers. “I have no doubt that it will.” He pressed a button to make the head end of the bed come up to allow Mike to sit upright comfortably. “They did feed you? I didn’t see too much sign of malnourishment. Certainly not enough for a week’s worth.”

 Mike nodded.

 “Good.” The Doctor rolled a table over Mike’s legs, then went to grab the tray. “Meatloaf and apples from the canteen.” He pulled off the cover keeping the food warm.

 Benton could easily tell which plate was his and which was Mike’s. Mike’s meatloaf was diced into small bits, and his fruit was applesauce instead of the apple slices he had. The Doctor retrieved two glasses and a large pitcher of water from somewhere in a corner and set them on the table.

 As hungry as Benton was, he didn’t immediately dig in. He watched Mike pick up his spoon with his right hand and dip it into the applesauce. His hand came up trembling, and he couldn’t seem to move it any closer to his mouth.

 Benton gently wrapped his hand around Mike’s to guide the food to his mouth. Mike looked to him in appreciation before swallowing it.

 “I-I’m sorry, I’m…” Mike apologized. The fingers of his casted hand curled slightly and twitched. He was still tired, and everything still hurt. Not as badly as when he had woken up, but it was still there.

 “It’s alright, Mike. Some physical weakness is only to be expected.” The Doctor consoled. “That’s what we’re here for.”

 They ate in relative quiet, the Doctor watching Mike’s movements to make certain he hadn’t missed anything in his treatment.

 The injured man ate most of his food before he pushed the plate away. Then he sat back against the pillow as Benton finished his plate. “I would like… a nice proper bath.”

 The Doctor saw the way he slowly blinked and had relaxed as much as his body would allow. No doubt he would be asleep soon. “Perhaps next time you wake up,” he answered. “I’d hardly want you falling asleep in it.”

 Mike hummed. “Promise?”

 The Doctor patted Mike’s thigh. “We’ll see. Rest now. Doctor’s orders.”

 The corners of Mike’s mouth twitched upwards at the joke. Benton’s hand reached up to gently massage the side of Mike’s head.

 It didn’t take long for Mike to indeed fall asleep. Once he had, the Doctor said to Benton. “Let me check you over now, Sergeant.”

 Benton kissed Mike’s hand before he let it go.


	17. Chapter 16

 Benton and the Doctor were having a quiet conversation when Mike began to whimper in his sleep. Benton turned to him, and his eyes widened at the way Mike’s hand started to claw at his throat, and his breathing shortened.

 “No, no, I’m here,” Benton soothed, taking Mike’s hand and gently holding it. “Wake up, Mike.”

 Thankfully, the man woke up quickly, though his eyes were wide in fear for a few seconds before he registered where he was. “Only a nightmare… Hey,” he greeted tiredly.

 “That’s right,” Benton encouraged. “Just a nightmare.”

 “Afternoon,” the Doctor replied. “You were only asleep for… almost four hours.”

 Mike nodded, and relaxed again as Benton’s hand gently tightened around his. A couple minutes later, he asked the Timelord, “Am I fit for a bath now?” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “I just… need to feel…”

 The Doctor rose from his chair. “We understand, Mike. You certainly seem more awake than before.”

 Mike nodded. “Think I feel it.”

 “Good, good. Would you like to eat a little, first?”

 “Not really hungry,” Mike answered.

 The Doctor smiled warmly. “That’s alright, you don’t have to eat right now.” He went over to get a wheelchair.

 “Thanks.” Mike’s voice was a little shaky, but getting stronger. “Appreciate it.” His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he mentally gathered his strength to get up. Part of him wanted to simply lie here and go back to sleep, but the other part of him needed to do something to feel… clean of Athel’s attentions. Benton helped him sit up.

 “That wasn’t too stressful, was it?” the Doctor asked, leaning in to look Mike in the eye to check his coherency.

 Mike shook his head.

 “Alright, then, I think we can certainly oblige your request. If you don’t mind some help?”

 Mike gave a watery smile in return, and pulled the blankets over his legs back. It took a little maneuvering to get him into the wheelchair without jostling his injured hand and shoulder too much. He took the more conventional painkillers the Timelord handed him.

 “The Tardis does have a rather luxurious bath,” the Doctor said, leading the way with Benton pushing Mike.

 “Oh, even better,” Mike replied, though he would’ve had no problem settling for a regular one. He supposed that small comfort would’ve felt luxurious enough after all he’d been through.

 The Doctor held open the door to the bathroom, and both Benton’s and Mike’s brows raised at the oval tub, large enough for probably four people to fit comfortably in, with various knobs around it. Several different bottles of what they presumed were soaps lined the lip against the wall.

 “You weren’t kidding, Doctor,” Benton commented.

 “I certainly think our good captain deserves it,” the Timelord said.

 Mike was quiet, and he closed his eyes. He simply listened as the water filled the tub, finding a little peacefulness in the sound. He did his best not to think about Athel strangling him and forcing his head into that basin of cold water, until he couldn’t breathe… He forced his eyes open, and fisted his right hand.

 “Are you alright?” Benton asked quietly.

 Mike nodded, and his hand relaxed. “Just… thinking how nice this’ll feel.”

 “Like he said, you deserve it.”

 “I certainly won’t argue that.”

 The Doctor pulled Benton aside, and lowly instructed, “Don’t let his face go under.”

 Benton nodded and didn’t ask why specifically, assuming it was something he had learned from those recordings. Had Athel held his face under water as another form of torture?

 As the water continued to run, the Doctor and Benton helped Mike out of his clothes and the bandages. The wounds under them were healed enough to get wet and lightly scrubbed. The cast on his hand and wrist were waterproof, and the sling would be easily replaced with a dry one later.

 Mike felt vulnerable once he was completely naked, even though Athel had never stripped him completely. The idea of what the alien could’ve done if he had was bad enough to make those fears resurface. Then he began to think about the times he’d been unconscious…

 But the water was perfectly warm as he shakily sat down, Benton’s arms helping to gently lower him. Perfectly warm and soothing against his skin and seeping into his muscles. Benton’s hand on the middle of his back kept him upright as he became accustomed to the temperature and sensation. The water came up to just below his chest.

 “Sergeant, do you have this covered?” the Doctor inquired.

 “Yeah, I have this, if you need to do something else,” Benton nodded.

 “Then I’ll leave you in privacy,” the Doctor smiled softly.

 “Thanks, Doc,” Benton replied as the Timelord left, leaving the door half-open. When he looked back to Mike, he noticed the questioning expression on his face. “What?”

 Now Mike was able to put together the Doctor’s expressions when he looked at the pair of them, and why Benton was being more openly affectionate with him in front of the Timelord. “He… he knows? About us?”

 Benton bit his lip, and hesitantly nodded. “Didn’t think it right to tell you yet. You don’t need to worry about that right now.”

 Mike took a couple of deep breaths. “How?”

 “When we brought you into the infirmary, you were… you were in a lot of pain and… and I needed to calm you. I held you and told you how much I loved you. It was all I could think of to do in the moment.” He smiled slightly. “It worked.” Then his smile fell. “Are you… are you angry?”

 Mike furrowed his brow in confusion as he thought through the situation. Then he raised his wet hand and brought it up to caress Benton’s face. “No. Why would...?” He swallowed, and scooted closer to the other man. “I’m not. I needed you, and you were there for me. I couldn’t have held my… composure, either, if it had been you.” He gripped around Benton’s ear and tugged him closer. Benton took the cue to serve him a gentle kiss.

 They separated a few seconds after, and Mike very quietly asked, “Only him?”

 Benton nodded. “He said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

 Mike nodded in acknowledgement. “He’d keep his word.” He consoled the still-worried Benton. “I’m not upset. It’s okay. If anyone here at UNIT would keep us secret… it’s him.” Maybe he would worry about this more later, but Benton was right. Right now, recovering and healing took priority. He more appreciated the safety and privacy of recovering in the Tardis, allowing him and Benton to be affectionate during the process.

 Mike’s hand slid down to the collar of Benton’s loose shirt. “Join me?”

 Benton smiled, and made sure Mike was fine to stay upright on his own before undressing himself.

 Mike turned his face down to the water when the healing scratches on Benton’s chest became visible. He glanced up as Benton carefully got in, even though there was more than enough room for him to without accidently jostling Mike.

 They thought over the choice of soaps, and tried out a few of the unlabeled knobs. They kept one on, which created a subtle warm current flowing around them.

 Mike closed his eyes, and leaned back against Benton’s front as the other man began to gently scrub his skin with a rainstorm-scented soap and washcloth. Benton was extra careful over the scratch and whip wounds.

 Then Benton scooted back to get Mike’s back. Mike inquired, “How does it look?”

 “Much better than when… when I found you.” Benton cleared his throat, and raised his hand to start washing the abused skin. “And the Doctor says it’ll be like nothing ever happened soon enough.”

 “Good,” Mike breathed. A couple minutes later, he let out a moan of pleasure as Benton began to scrub the soap into his hair and massage his scalp. “That feels so good…”

 Benton chuckled. “I hoped it would.”

 Mike turned his head to kiss Benton’s jaw.

 Once his hair was lathered and soapy, Benton shifted until he was cradling Mike from the side. “Do you think you could tilt your head back?”

 Mike had been afraid of this part. He took a deep breath, trying to shove away the fear and panic of his head being held under until he couldn’t breathe…

 “Hey.” Benton’s arm slipped more securely around his back. “I won’t let you go under.”

 Mike knew the other man wouldn’t let him slip, knew he was in safe hands. With one more deep breath, he nodded, and tilted his head back. Benton lowered him more, until the water covered most of the top of his head and neck.

 “You alright?” Benton asked.

 “Yeah.” At that, Benton’s other hand began to massage his scalp under the water and stroke through his hair to get all the soap out. It felt so heavenly. After everything, to be able to sit here in a luxurious warm bath with the man he loved lovingly tending to him…

 “There, think I’ve got it all,” Benton announced. He easily lifted him back upright. “We still need to get your face,” he reminded.

 “Go ahead.” Mike closed his eyes. He kept them closed as the washcloth came up and cleaned his face. He could still breathe through his nose, so he didn’t panic. Still, he appreciated that Benton was quick with this task.

 “There we go,” Benton said with a kiss to Mike’s forehead. “Feeling any better?”

 “Much.” Mike’s eyes opened, and he took in Benton’s handsome face framed by damp hair. “You have no idea.”

 “Good. Do you mind if I do myself?”

 Mike sat up fully. “Of course not.”

 Benton was quick. When he finished, Mike asked, “Can we stay here for a little while longer? The water hasn’t even started to get colder yet.”

 “I’d like that, too,” Benton agreed. He settled behind Mike again, and pulled him back against him.

 Mike raised his hand to stroke down Benton’s cheek. Benton kissed his cheek, and took Mike’s hand in his.

 “I love you, Mike” the larger man whispered. “So very much.”

 Mike slid down a little to be more comfortable. “I love you, John.”

 Their entwined hands fell to rest on Mike’s thigh. Benton’s other arm rested over Mike’s slinged and casted forearm, his fingers touching the back of the other man’s.

 The lingering scent of the soap, the warmth of the water, the warmer undercurrent, the presence of the other… It was all exactly what the two men needed.  


	18. Chapter 17

 “How are you feeling?” the Doctor asked when he came in to take Mike and Benton back to the infirmary.

 Mike was in the wheelchair as Benton brushed his damp hair. “Better,” he answered. “More like myself, I suppose.”

 Benton was satisfied with the state of the other man’s hair, and went to replace the brush. Mike looked up to the Timelord. “Thank you, for everything.”

 The Doctor didn’t have to ask to know what he meant by everything. He smiled warmly. “Of course. Anything you need.” Then he rubbed the back of his neck. “I think there’s only so long I can keep your eager visitors at bay.”

 “Jo and the Brig?” Benton asked in clarification.

 The Doctor nodded. “But I won’t let them in until you’re ready, Mike.”

 “How about… after we eat? And not for long, but… long enough to let them know I’m alright?”

 “As long as you’re up to it,” the Doctor agreed. He replaced the wet sling and checked the man over. “Do you remember the way back, Sergeant?”

 “Yes.” Benton finished making himself more presentable and took the handles of the wheelchair. The Doctor accompanied them part of the way there before going off to get their meals.

 When they got back to the infirmary, Mike could tell Benton was nervous about something. “What is it?”

 Benton debated with himself whether to tell Mike this now or not, but he quickly gave in at the pleading look from the other man. He suddenly wished there was a window he could look out of. He swallowed heavily. “On that ship, we found… we found a room, with a couple televisions and… and on them was you.”

 Mike’s brow furrowed in concern and confusion. “What do you mean?”

 Benton grimaced as he remembered what had been on those screens. “We saw…” His throat felt dry. “Some of what they did to you.” He quickly added as Mike’s expression fell and his right hand clenched. “Not much, but… yeah.”

 Athel had recorded his interrogation sessions? And they had found them? It took a moment for Mike to gather his thoughts enough to ask, “All three of you?”

 Benton nodded. He cleared his throat. “There’s more. The Brigadier and I saw less than a minute, I think.” He shook his head to expel the sound of Mike screaming out for them as the alien abused the injured hand. “But the Doctor, he copied all the files onto a small computer and, after we tended to you, he watched all of it.”

 “He what? Why?”

 “To make sure he could be thorough in treating you, I think he said.”

 “I…” Mike shook his head. “I guess that makes sense.”

 “I don’t know how he got through all that. The bits I saw were… those were terrible enough.”

 “There would’ve been a lot to go through,” Mike said, his voice cracking. He stared straight ahead. His morbid curiousity rose, and he stopped himself from asking what exactly Benton had seen. No doubt whatever it had been, he didn’t want to have to make Benton remember the specifics. And really, to know that Benton had seen any of it was enough for Mike. It was certainly enough for him. “Come here.”

 Benton quickly kneeled down beside Mike in the wheelchair, and the captain pulled him into a one-armed embrace. “I’m sorry you had to see it,” Mike whispered. The fact that recordings existed and that one of his friends had seen them troubled him. At least it had only been the Doctor who had seen everything.

 Benton didn’t quite know what to say to that, and simply kissed the top of his head.

 The Doctor entered with a pushcart. “I hope spaghetti suits you?”

 “Sounds great, Doc,” Benton answered.

 Mike didn’t bring up the interrogation sessions with the Doctor, figuring he didn’t need to be explicitly reminded of them, either. He stayed in the wheelchair to eat, then got back into the bed. “I’m still up for those visitors.”

The Doctor nodded. “They’ll be glad.” Then he left.

 Benton took his position at Mike’s side, though sat slightly further away. He still laid his hand over Mike’s.

 Their hands separated when the door opened again.

 “Oh, thank goodness!” Jo said as greeting, rushing over to the pair. “You’re alright? I mean, the Doctor said-“

 “Steady on, Jo,” the Doctor reminded.

 “Sorry.” Jo slowed as she reached the bed. She gently hugged Benton. “It’s so nice to see you.” When she turned to Mike, she bit her lip, unsure what to do.

 Mike raised his hand, and took hers, squeezing her fingers. “Hey.”

 “Hey, yourself,” Jo smiled. “We were all so worried and…”

 “I’m safe, sound, and on the mend,” Mike assured.

 “That’s very good to hear from you, Captain,” Alistair said, coming to stand next to Jo.

 “Thank you, sir, for rescuing me.”

 “Did you think I’d leave one of my best men in the hands of some vile person?” Alistair asked. “Of course we were going to rescue you. I’m only sorry that it took us so long.”

 “That’s… that’s alright. You came for me in the end. You got me before…” Mike let the statement vaguely hang in the air between them. “And I’ll be alright, as the Doctor says.” He cleared his throat and gave a watery smile. “Between him and Benton, I’ve been well taken care of.”

 “Good, good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 Jo turned to the Timelord. “How much longer do they have to stay in here?”

 “I’d like to keep Mike here at least another two days.”

 “Yes, that sounds reasonable,” Alistair agreed, remembering the Doctor’s report on what had been done to the man. Even with the help of accelerated healing, he would need rest and looking after. He couldn’t think of a better and more quiet place than the Tardis.

 “Get well soon, won’t you?” Jo said. “We’ve missed having you around.”

 Mike hummed lightly. “I’ve missed being around.” Then he failed to stifle a yawn.

 “I’ll take that as a sign that visiting time is over,” the Doctor remarked.

 “Sorry,” Mike apologized. He could already feel himself starting to drift into sleepiness.

 “Don’t apologize, Captain. You’ve been through… quite an ordeal.” Alistair smiled softly. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage while you recover.”

 Mike’s eyes closed. “Thank you, sir.”

 ********

 “John, you won’t like saying this,” Mike said softly a few minutes after he had been woken from another nightmare. It was a memory, really. “I’m… I’m relieved it wasn’t you.”

 Benton’s hands around Mike’s tightened.

 “It could’ve been you, so easily.” Mike swallowed heavily in his realization. “So easily. You left only a few minutes before me. I assume you took the same road I did. All Athel knew was that he was grabbing someone from UNIT.” He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment. “It could’ve easily been you…”

 “What if I said I wish it had been?”

 Mike shook his head. He had no doubt Benton was strong and tough and could’ve handled what Mike had been through just as well or better than he had, but he was relieved they hadn’t had to find out.

 Benton moved in closer, and brought Mike’s hand up to his mouth. “I would’ve gladly taken your place.”

 “I know.” He half-smiled. “I’d be saying the same thing if our places were reversed.” Then his face fell and he stared up at the ceiling. “Athel knew about us.” He made a grunting sound as the memory surfaced.

 Benton slightly nodded and recalled, “He did call me your John when he caught us.”

 “The first name I said after mine, while he was asking about the Brigadier, was yours. I didn’t mean to. It just… came out. He heard it, and said the first name someone says is always that of a loved one, and more often than not a romantic partner. I didn’t confirm it then, but…” Mike swallowed hard. “Later, he said if I cooperated, he would take me back to where he found me, let me go home to you.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “It was tempting. I… I only wanted to go home.”

 Benton gently brushed his fingers through Mike’s hair.

 “Then he offered to find you and bring you there. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, but of course that was… that was completely out of the question.” He took a steadying breath. “That’s why I was so afraid when I saw you there.”

 “It’s alright, now,” Benton soothed. “Whichever of us it had been, it’s alright now.”

 “Yeah. It’s alright, now.” Mike echoed, leaning his head sideways to rest against Benton’s forehead.


	19. Chapter 18

 “You can ask what’s on your mind.” Mike prompted at the questioning expression on Benton’s face.

 “You sure?” Benton grimaced slightly. “It’s about…”

 “Ask it anyway,” Mike replied, appreciating the other man’s caution in reminding him of what had recently happened.

 “Okay…” Benton took a breath. “That word he called you… Kej… Kejtal?”

 Mike shuddered, and repeated in a faraway voice, “Kejtal… yes.”

 “Sorry, you don’t have to-“

 Mike raised his hand to stop Benton’s apology. “No, it’s alright.” He inhaled deeply through his nose. “I think it’s a domestic animal from his home. No idea what it looks like, but I kept imagining a… a sort of big scaly cat.”

 Benton half-smiled slightly at the description, though it quickly fell at the implication.

 “I… I hated when he called me that. Calling me something close to a pet.” Mike’s eyes glazed over. “His beautiful, spirited, resilient kejtal…”

 “Hey, you’re here with me,” Benton reminded, squeezing Mike’s hand for emphasis.

 Mike cleared his throat and shook his head. “Here with you.” He let go of Benton’s hand to gingerly scratch at the bandage on his chest. “Athel… he liked petting my hair, even.”

It was Benton’s turn to shudder, remembering the alien’s hand in his own hair. He could easily imagine Athel petting Mike while brutally hurting him. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

 Mike recalled a question that had confused him. “He asked if I was considered attractive among Humans. Then he said he found me attractive. It… unnerved me.” His eyes unfocused again. “And there was a point where I … where I thought… he would…” He couldn’t say it. “He would… t-take me.”

 Benton understood, and took Mike’s hand to bring it up and kiss the back of it in comfort.

 Mike shook his head again. “He didn’t, but I was so afraid…” He took a long inhale to calm himself before he could panic over the memory and thoughts of what-ifs. “But you all came for me.”

 “Yes,” Benton nodded. “Yes, we did.”

 ********

 A couple days later, when the Doctor was satisfied with Mike’s progress, he allowed him to leave the Tardis.

 They were all in the Brigadier’s office to make sure everything was settled before Benton took Mike home.

 “You’ll be on medical leave for two weeks,” Alistair informed.

 Mike opened his mouth for a token protest at being away that long, but accepted it with a nod. “If you think that’s best, sir.

 “Then a week of light duty on your return,” Alistair continued.

 “Yes, sir.” Then Mike looked up from his seat in the wheelchair to Benton standing at his side. He returned his gaze to Alistair. “Sir, I do have one request. May I borrow Benton for a few days?”

 Alistair looked up to the Doctor for advice.

 “He will probably need some assistance for a few days,” the Doctor agreed.

 Alistair looked back to Mike with a soft smile. “Might as well be someone you’re comfortable with. Sergeant?”

 “I don’t mind at all, sir,” Benton answered.

 “Good. And if there’s anything else you need, Captain, don’t hesitate to ask.”

 “I think I’ll be alright, sir.”

 “I can visit you, right?” Jo asked.

 “Now, Jo, don’t crowd him,” the Doctor chided.

 “I don’t object,” Mike answered. “Just call ahead first?”

 “I can do that,” Jo agreed. She gingerly hugged him.

 “Right,” Alistair sighed. “I believe that’s everything. You’re dismissed. Get better soon, Captain.”

 “Believe me, I’ll do my best,” Mike replied.

 Benton took the handles of the wheelchair, and assured, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep looking after him.”

 “I don’t doubt it, Sergeant.”

 ********

 Benton parked his car in the usual spot whenever he stayed at Mike’s place. He patted Mike’s thigh before he got out to open the passenger door.

 “I still owe you that drink,” Mike remarked with a half-smile as Benton helped him out.

 “When you’ve been cleared to drink, I’ll take you up on that,” Benton replied.

 “Fair enough.”

 Benton helped him inside and up to his flat, letting Mike lean on him to compensate for the healing knee and being careful not to jostle the slinged arm.

 “Home, at last,” Mike breathed as Benton unlocked the door and they went inside. He turned to his partner for a quick kiss. 

 Benton smiled. “I told you we would go home.”

 “Yes, you did.”

 They weren’t hungry, having eaten dinner at HQ before leaving, so they went to the bedroom. Benton helped Mike into pyjama pants before changing into a pair himself.

 Mike sat on the left side of the bed, laid back against the pillows, and closed his eyes. He reopened them and turned his head when he felt Benton’s weight on the other side.

 Benton’s eyes roved over the fading bruises and red lines of Mike’s bare torso before meeting his eyes. Mike drew him into a long and slow kiss.

 “You said it yourself,” Mike said as they separated to breathe. “I’ll be alright.”

 “I know.” Benton’s eyelids fluttered as he looked down Mike’s body again.

 Mike recognized that expression, and said, “John, you won’t break me.”

 “You’re certain?”

 Mike raised his hand to trail his fingers up Benton’s chest. He encouraged his partner with a simple smile. “I need you, too.” He knew they weren’t going to go further than he could handle, him still tired and in some lingering pain, and Benton too in-tune to him to do more.

 “Alright.” Benton moved in for another kiss, this one more heated. He made sure not to press himself down on Mike’s front and aggravate the bad shoulder and casted hand.  

 Mike’s hand snaked up to the back of Benton’s head to massage through the hair. He kissed Benton harder.

 Benton’s mouth slid down, kissing along Mike’s jaw to the side of his neck. Mike moaned and his eyelids fluttered. He turned his head and nuzzled his nose against Benton’s temple. He inhaled deeply.

 He was home. There was no mistaking that now. Not with Benton’s gentle mouth on his neck, Benton’s hand in his hair, Benton’s scent in his nose, the two of them in bed together.

 There was still some ways to go before his body would be fully healed, and he knew there would be some nightmares and reliving memories to come. But he was gone from Athel Cyprian, free of him.

 Mike winced as Benton let his body drop just enough to put pressure on his broken hand. Benton immediately stopped and pulled away. “Sorry.”

 “It’s alright,” Mike assured. He pulled the other man back down to continue kissing.

 The next time they pulled away to breathe, they rested their foreheads together. Mike stared up into the blue eyes, the expression warm and tender. His hand slid from the back of Benton’s head to caress his cheek. He breathed, “Home.”

 “Home with me.” Benton brushed his nose against Mike’s. “I love you.”

 Mike echoed the statement. Then they relaxed together, Benton’s arm over Mike’s waist and his mouth breathing softly into Mike’s hair, making the captain feel safe and secure.


End file.
